Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Umbrella command center was abuzz with the sound of computers, keyboards, and information sharing, all nearly a decade ahead of what should be possible. Monitors that showed a live feed, biometrics, and street views on full view. No one seemed to care about the carnage they saw on those screens—the dead tearing through the living, cries for help unheard as their bodies were eaten. It was like a scene from hell. 

Not a single person in that room gave it a second glance. 

Each person there was the best in two things. Their respective fields and keeping their emotions under control. Umbrella was not the place for good people. The generous paychecks and constant fear of termination helped as well, not to mention the heavily armed guards at the door.  

A hiss came from the door as it slid open.

"Report." The small man in a black hazmat suit ordered, walking into the room as the guards saluted him. His voice was evident through the voice box on the outside of his suit. No one knew who he was, and no one was brave or stupid enough to ask. All they knew was that he was a high ranking member of Umbrella command, a severe germaphobe, and was called Mr. Y. He was one of the brains behind the Tyrant program. Why he worked for a company dealing in chemical weapons and viruses was confusing to most of the staff.

"Sir, Nemesis is en route, and we have teams surrounding the city a mile out. Currently, no infected have passed the checkpoint." A tech informed as they watched through a vest-camera as a U.B.C.S. member blew the head of a stumbling infected.

"Any reports from inside the city?" He asked, keeping his gloved arms behind his back.

"The last report from Squad Leader Mikhail said that they had landed and were prepping for civilian extraction. Once they have completed that, they will search for Dr. Bard, sir," A different tech answered, bringing up photos of Mikhail's team.

"And Nikolai? Is he ready for data analysis of the Nemesis assets?" He asked, running a gloved finger across the top of a nearby console, and seeing it spotless gave a subtle nod. The console tech gave a small sigh of relief. He didn't want to end up a 'volunteer' like the last guy. 

"Yes, sir. But sir, we have information that Nikolai has buyers lined for the data as well. Should we move him to 'imminent termination’ status?" The tech asked, bringing up a photo of him.

"Haha. No need. This works to our benefit. The more people who know about Nemesis, the more people who will want to buy more like him. Just keep an eye on him for now. How are our visual feeds into the city?" He asked, starting to pace back and forth.

"Yes, sir. Currently, our comms are down, but we were able to hack into some of the security cameras around the city. So far, we have Hunters, Lickers, and Crawlers inside the city. The Crawlers have even built a nest on top of one of the substations." He said, bringing up a live feed of the substation just as Crawler babies burst out of a man's stomach. Some of the people in that room went green-faced at that—even the guards.

"Amazing what can be built in mere hours.' Mr. Y said, uncaringly about the gruesome scene he witnessed. 'How many controlled B.O.W do we have in the city right now?"

Taking a sip of water and desperately trying to block out what she had just seen, a tech quickly typing on her screen brought up a dossier.

"Sir, we currently have four Tyrant-series entities in the city on orders or standby and a Hunter-Tyrant prototype, Mr. H ." She said, bringing up a picture of a man with a pale face and what looked like a cross between him, a Hunter on screen. Mr. Y gave the screen a long look, his face hidden behind the darkened plastic of the suit.

"Mr. H. A side project of the Tyrant program. A Hybrid of a Hunter and my beautiful Mr. X. Put a target in him, and he will kill everything to get to it. Even those listed as no-kill. A failure. Why hasn't it been destroyed yet?" He asked anger undermining his voice 

"It was scheduled for liquidation today, actually, sir." She answered.

"Incompetence. My bane of this world. No matter, in a few days, everything will be clean in Raccoon City." He let out with a laugh.

"Sir, Nemesis has been unloaded, and we will soon have a live feed from him." 

"Excellent. Let's enjoy the show.” He announced just as the feed came online from Nemesis. Only then, a massive blue flash lit the screen, and everything went to static. 'What the hell just happened?!" He shouted as the tech scrambled around him, desperately trying not to look him in the… face-guard.

"Sir, according to the team that dropped Nemesis off, a massive blue lighting strike hit him just as he was coming online." One tech answered, pressing his headpiece against his ear. Hearing this, Mr. Y turned and faced the tech who instantly felt his life flash before him.

"... You're telling me that against all probable odds, a lighting bolt hits Nemesis just as it was coming online, and it was blue?!" He asked, his words so heated it is a wonder his suit didn't melt. Before anyone could say a word, Mr. Y reached over to one of the guards and, with quickness unexpected from someone in a hazmat suit, yanked theBeretta from his belt and pressed the barrel against the back of the tech's head.

"You have five seconds to salvage this. A multi-million dollar asset just went missing, and I want solutions." Mr. Y ordered, cocking the hammer. 

"The guns! Umbrellas put a tracker in most of their gear for special ops. They might have put some in Nemesis's special guns." He replied, sweat flowing like rain.

"I don't want a might. I want a guarantee. Find out," He told him, pressing the barrel against the tech’s head before dropping the gun to his side.

"Oh, thank God, " The tech muttered, sighing with relief. Mr. Y brought the gun to the side of the tech's head and fired, spraying the nearby wall with his brains. All the other techs jumped in their seats and looked at Mr. Y, terrified.

"People, God has fucked my day; let us not thank him in front of me. Now someone find my Nemesis!"

…

I wouldn't call what I did waking up but more being born. My entire body burned like ants were rampaging under my skin. Everything felt wrong to me as I sat up from the cold concrete. I felt the ground slightly crack under my hands as I pushed myself up. I tried to open my eyes, but some fabric or something was covering my face. Reaching, I pulled it off with a tearing sound to find it was a leather hood of some kind. Looking down at my body, I found myself covered in leather everywhere, from the long coat to my boots. Here and there was a caution sticker. Over my heart was a large tube where some kind of device was inserted. As I touched it, my fingers caught my attention. 

 They were raw and burnt looking. Had I been in a fire? Where am I? I tried to speak, but all that came out was a rough groan. I knew I should be panicking, but my emotions felt… diluted somehow. First thing’s first. Where am I?

Rising unsteadily to my feet, I found myself to be a giant. I didn't know the precise height, but I felt around eight feet tall.  Taking a look around, I found myself atop a skyscraper surrounded by unfamiliar buildings. Nearby were three significant cases, each easily as big as an adult. And one massive one as big as me. Kneeling next to one of the unopened ones, I pressed the release latch, noticing the word Umbrella on the case as the lid went flying off.

Inside was a massive canister hooked up to some kind of sprayer.  Crematorium Flame-Thrower model 2. Those words sprang into my head as I studied the weapon, somehow knowing what it was and how it worked.  How did I know that? I thought to myself as I moved to the next case. 

Inside this one was a giant rocket launcher.  Anti-Tank Laser-Guided Hellion. Next to the bomber were four more missiles, all sealed in canisters resting on top of each other in a hip carrier. What the hell is this? Five bucks say the next one is a gun too, I joked to myself.

Automatic Belt-Fed Top-Grip Revolving Five Barrel Shotgun.  It looked like the unholy offspring of a mini-gun and a shotgun, and I loved it. It was about the size of my forearm and had a thigh holster. On top of it the gun where the sights should be was the grip and trigger. And then I saw it on the belt's shiny metallic surface. It would haunt me to the end of my days. My face.

I looked like someone melted a man's face and remade it to be horrifying. My head was completely bald, and half of my face had skin stapled over the right side. I had no ears or nose, and yet I could smell smoke and hear my footsteps. The bottom of my face was just gone. A massive lack of flesh was missing around my jaws, revealing massive white teeth and a raw chin. With strips of skin attached to my shoulders, making me bale to see the muscle below. The only human part of me was one blue eye. I'm a monster. At this, my emotions finally came fully to surface, and I roared.

It was a roar of endless rage, sorrow, and pain. Anger at whatever made me this. The pain that I was stuck like this forever. Forever cursed to be seen as a monster. Some horrid beast only fit to be burned and purged for this world. An unholy abomination. A freak. What was I doing here?!

Find STARS. Hearing this voice in my head, I swallowed my emotions, feeling them become diluted again. I took a deep breath and collected myself. So far, I knew two things. Something called Umbrella has info on me and sent me here. And I am here for something called Stars. Walking to the edge of the building, I looked down at the street, slightly marveling at my vision despite having only one eye and saw… hell.

Fire, corpses, ruined buildings, and people eating other people. Not people. Infected. Somehow I knew most of those people down there were already dead, and yet in defiance of the natural order they were still walking. Cries of help and pleas to God so loud that I could faintly hear them even this high up. They don't deserve this. No one deserves this, I thought, clenching my fists in rage. Turning it back, I quickly moved back to the cases.

Wrapping the belt around my waist, I grabbed the holster for the shotgun and strapped it to my right thigh, securing it on my waist holster. Picking up the tank, I secured to my back and placed the sprayer on the left side of the tank. Finally, I slung the rocket launcher over my right shoulder so it rested against the shell. I put the extra rockets on my left hip. While I suited up, I noticed the lid on the case I came in. Nemesis.

Growling, I walked to the edge of the eight-story building and looked down. Despite the height, I knew I would be okay from a fall from this height. First job: find STARS, whatever that was. The second job: ruin Umbrella. They wanted a Nemesis; they would get one. Umbrella, your Nemesis is coming. And with that, I stepped off the building.

…

It was safe to say that Brad Vickers was not having a good few days. He had just gotten done saving his team, or what was left of them, from the old Spencer Mansion. And it seemed like the very next day when bam zombie apocalypse. And Brad, being a real reasonable man, was doing what he did best.  Running like hell to save whom he could.

Have to get to Jill! This just the kind of shit Umbrella would use to tie up their loose ends, he thought to himself as he ran down the street, dodging undead when he could and shooting their legs out with his nine-millimeter.  He wasn't able to save his friends last time, but this time would be different.

Despite his main occupation of flying the helicopter, which he desperately wished he had, he had run the S.T.A.R.S obstacle course enough times. He was in the top ten. So maneuvering through the wreckage of the city wasn't that hard.

"That being said, only ten people used that damn thing." He muttered, crawling under a downed building sign as flames and wreckage dotted the sidewalks and road. It was pure chaos out there. And the scent. All he could smell was death, rot, and sewage. He knew this is what hell must smell like.

"That being said, I think I’ve been lucky. So far, I haven't run into any mutants or god-forbid another one of those Tyrant things." Brad said with a slight chuckle. Just then, a roar echoed above him. It was loud; it was piercing; it was tyrannical.

"... Brad, we are going to learn to shut up one day, I promise," He told himself as he started to run, just as a horde of zombies appeared around the corner.

"Going around," He decided as he turned to run down an alley only for some horrid skinless monster to drop down on all fours from the wall in front of him.  Oh God, I can see its brain! What the hell is this thing?! Why does it need a tongue like that?!  He thought terrified as he backed up, firing at the creature's exposed brain. If this was hell, then this… Licker thing was surely a demon. It just seemed to ignore the damage as it scuttled after Brad, its tongue lashing out at him.

Just as the tongue was about to pierce his eye, Brad stumbled and fell over a piece of debris, causing the appendage to miss him entirely. Still, on the ground, Brad emptied his clip into the Licker to what seemed like no effect. 

"Oh, shit!" He exclaimed, reaching to his belt for another clip. The Licker didn't waste this chance and pounced at Brad.  I hate my luck. It would have been his final thought if a massive black object didn't come crashing from above right on top of the Licker, causing it to shriek in pain. The force of the impact caused a mini-dust cloud to spring up, blinding Brad for a moment. The next thing he heard was the continuous roars of a shotgun going off. It seemed to last forever before everything went silent. 

Opening his eyes and facing the direction of the horde, Brad was shocked. What had once been a group of starving zombies was now nothing more than ground-up pieces of dead meat. Turning to see what saved him caused Brad a moment of intense regret. If the Licker had been a demon, then what he was looking at was a devil.

Standing over at least eight feet tall, it was a nightmare of flesh and violence wrapped in leather. Scattered all over his massive body were weapons of such size and strength, Brad was sure his friend Barry would have fought the creature barehanded for one. Then the monster turned to give Brad a full look at him. Oh crap, another one!  It was the stuff of nightmares, just like that monster from the Mansion roof. And yet its blue eye seemed to pulse with… humanity?

But there was no humanity for the Licker as it lay broken under the Monster, clawing and biting the ground trying to move. The newcomer gave the Licker a quiet look before slamming a boot down on its skull, squashing it as easily as rotten fruit. Twisting his boot to make sure it wasn't getting up, the Monster walked over to the S.T.A.R.S pilot.  

Moving quickly, Brad reloaded his pistol and brought it up to fire only to pause, dumbfounded. The Monster was offering him his hand up. He slowly lowered his gun but kept it ready at a moment's notice.

What the hell is happening right now? He wondered. The Monster seeing Brad's reluctance slowly raise his other hand and gives him a thumbs up as his face twitch by his exposed teeth.

"Are you trying to smile?' Brad asked the behemoth who just silently nods its head. 'Holy crap I was not expecting an answer." He confessed before reaching and taking the Monsters hand who raised him to his feet with surprising gentleness. Standing on his feet Brad eyed the gun in his hands before shaking his head.

"I gotta be nuts." And with that he holstered his gun as he stood before the Monster who stared down at Brad. Or more specifically, the logo on his vest.

…

There it is! I thought happily seeing the S.T.A.R.S logo on his vest. Shit, how do I ask him? Come on...whatever my name is, just say one word. Raising my hand slowly so as not to scare the man I pointed at his logo. Swallowing saliva, I tried my best to say it.

"St..sta...STARS." I managed to croak out my voice, a deep, terrifying rasp that caused the man to shiver in fear. Holy shit, I shouldn't talk much. I decided to myself. My voice scared even myself.

"..holy shit, you can talk. Wait, Stars?' Repeating the word and staring at me then at his logo. 'Are you looking for S.T.A.R.S?" He asked me. I simply nod at him as I kept my ear open for anymore infected and other dangers. 

"Why are you looking for them?"

I shrugged in response.

"How did you get here?"

Shrug.

"What's your name?"

Shrug.

"Oh, sweet Jesus, an amnesiac monster with heavy weaponry.' The man announced as he ran his hands through his hair, thinking. 'What do you know?" 

"Umm.Umbrella." I growled out, giving a thumbs down with my hand. Seeing this, the man chuckled.

 "Well, that's a boost in my books. Name's Brad Vickers." He introduced himself as he held out his hand. Taking it gently in mine, I shook it lightly.  He started to smile before he began to shout.

"Oh shit, Jill! Can you help me get to my friend?!' He pleaded with me. I didn't hesitate a moment before nodding. Right now, Brad was my best shot at answers, and I wasn't about to let him out of sight. 'Thanks. Follow me she lives a few blocks from here." He said, turning around and running while I easily kept pace a few steps behind him just by walking. Oh dear God, I have the walking speed of a slasher. I realized as I followed the STAR member.

…

Back inside the Umbrella control, there was silence all around. The techs were silent like prey when they were around a predator who had just woken up. Afraid that any wrong moves could mean their death. More than one glanced over at where the co-worker had been terminated earlier. The wall had been made spotless minutes after his..firing. If Umbrella knew one thing, it was how to clean up. 

While Mr.Y was quiet as he pondered what he had just seen on the large monitor attached to the wall at the other end of the room, a tech had managed to find him through a security camera just outside the building where Nemesis had been deployed. And it was luck it only took a short while to find Nemesis just shortly after they lost him. To the endless relief of the techs in the room.

"Amazing.' Mr. Y admitted out loud. He was talking more to himself than the techs. 'Simply amazing."

"Sir, wasn't Nemesis's mission to hunt down S.T.A.R.S member and not save them?" A tech asked in a moment of lunacy she would never be able to explain.

"Oh yes, that was the original plan. But this offers so much more possibilities than simple combat data.' He said, folding his gloved arms behind his back.' Look at what we have seen so far intelligence, reasoning, and above all, communication skills!  So far, he has demonstrated to be above his predecessors in this regard!" All the other techs we're too afraid to mention the fact free-will usually came with such intelligence.

"But, we still need combat data.' He said as he rubbed one gloved hand against his visor. 'How long would it take to deploy a Tyrant?"

"Sir, 2 hours." 

"Too long. What about Mr. H?" He asked, causing the techs to go pale.

"Sir, we can have Mr.H ready to go in fifteen mins and deployed in another ten minutes." A tech answered, bringing up Mr.H containment pod.

"Excellent, and he is close by too. Get him running and program targets into him."

"Yes, sir. Loading S.T.A.R.S roster into Mr. H." A tech said, typing away at their keyboards.

"No. Load Jill Valentine as a primary target.' He corrected the techs. 'Tell Nicholai of this development and other Overseers in the area if we can. Now let's see what happens when we make him a bodyguard." At his command, the techs went to work.

So my creation, you want to play the hero? Well, what good is a hero with no damsel? 

….

Underground in a high-tech prison, a creature was stirring. It's form hidden in the dark waters of the continent pod. Just then burning eyes crimson as blood appeared in the waters. Followed closely by a massive set of serrated chipped teeth set in a predator smile.

 Jill Valentine. Kill

Chapter Text

"Bumping into you is turning into a home-run, amigo," Brad laughed as I used a down stop-sign to mow down a small group of zombies. It weighed next to nothing in my large hand as I swung it with all the ease of a baseball bat. Keeping my shotgun at the ready, I looked at the small group of survivors that had bunched up with us. 

Well, they stuck with Brad and kept well away from me. Brad had been kind enough to tie a S.T.A.R.S bandanna around my lower mouth or what was left of it. Knots are going to be another bane of my existence; damn burnt sausage fingers. I don't think the bandanna helped much, though.

"What the hell is happening? What is this?!" An older man in a cheap suit asked, clutching his briefcase to his chest like it was a holy symbol that would keep the demons away.    

"Dead people are rising, monsters are roaming the streets, and 'It's not butter' actually isn't butter. All thanks to the corporate overlord that is Umbrella," Brad said, resuming the lead to Jill's building. I followed behind the group, easily keeping up with my slasher walking. Every once in a while, one of them would glance back at me. I would try to flash them thumbs-up to make them feel better, but they would just quickly turn back. 

Let's not try to talk to them. Hate to see what my voice would do to them.  A lot of them were razed, filthy, and looked like they needed years of therapy. But I would make sure they would get to a safe place they could have that therapy. 

I saw a shape underneath one of the cars, and I rushed forward, cracking the ground.

A woman in a torn waitress uniform screamed as I appeared next to her. Ignoring her, I brought my boot down on the zombie that was seconds from biting into her ankle—destroying its skull.  Standing up, I looked down at the waitress.

"Care..ful," I rasped out, trying to make my voice as gentle as possible. I went from a raspy hell voice to a mild nightmare. Yey, progress. I thought with grim humor. The waitress just nodded, terrified as the rest of the group started to watch their feet more. And I broke the rule almost immediately. I must be a people person.

"Are we good?' Brad asked from the front. I just looked at him and gestured at our surroundings. “...fair point." 

We continued moving. Moving up closer, I started keeping pace beside Brad, pushing cars and other obstacles out of the way and squashing any undead or corpse I saw. Never hurt to be careful.

"S.T.A...R.S?" I tried to make the word a question. I miss lips so much right now. Brad kept scanning the streets as we walked, pistol at the ready. He gave me a look as we walked before understanding.

"Oh, you're asking what they are. It stands for 'Special Tactics and Rescue Service.' He began to explain. 'We are an elite special forces division under the jurisdiction of the Raccoon Police though. Raccoon City being where you are now.' I simply nodded.He must be trying to distract himself from the situation, and I can't blame him.'Picked from the best of the best or craziest of crazies depending on who you ask. We deal with everything from crack-heads with RPGs to this stuff now, I guess. God, I miss the crackheads." He said, looking around the carnage as he shook his head. 

I gave him a moment to himself, backhanding the head of a nearby zombie. We walked in silence for a bit, the only sound the occasional gunshot and siren in the distance. Finally, he started to talk again as we came upon a four-intersection

"About a month ago, Bravo Team was deployed to a mansion up in the Arkaly mountains. They went dark almost immediately. The next day I get called in to fly the Alpha team in. Chris Redfield, Joseph Forest, Jill Valentine, Barry Burton and our Captain Albert Wesker.' He spat the name out as though it was vile poison. 'I dropped them off and waited for their call back. A few hours later, I get the call and fly back for them. Next thing I know, they are being chased to the roof by something that you remind me of.' He admitted giving me a side-look. 'We kill the thing, and I take off with the survivors' Jill, Chris, Rebecca Summers Bravo team's medic, and Barry. And there were questionings, IA was called, and nothing was done to the company behind the experiments done up there. The people responsible for that and all this too I bet. Umbrella."

Hearing this, I felt a burning sensation in my chest. Umbrella. How many lives have you fucked?! And with an angry growl, I slammed my fist down on a nearby hood. Caving it in and crushing the engine underneath. Seeing this, Brad backed up a few steps, and the group paused behind us, ready to bolt at a moment notice. It took a minute for my emotions to become smothered again. 

"..wait. Umbrella made you, didn't they?' He asked. Thinking hard about this, I nodded. It was the only conclusion I could come to. “And you said S.T.A.R.S..oh my God you were sent here to kill the surviving members. Oh shit!” He shouted, startling the others. 'They are going to send something else after her!"

I was about to respond when I felt something—a chill on the back of my neck. Moving almost subconsciously, I turned to face the roof about a block away. Even with my enhanced vision, I couldn't get a good look, not until it stopped and turned to me. 

I could see its eyes: evil, hungry, cruel red orbs. As monstrous as the pale beastly face, they resided in. It was as large as me, if not bigger. It's ape-like body - was covered in spikes and scaly hidebound in cloth like mine. And just as I looked at it felt I could see its soul. And it gave me a feeling I will never forget. Fear. Only then, it flashed a grin at me before it took off howling in hunger and madness. The group behind us huddled together, hearing it, and honestly, if my emotions weren't subdued, I would be joining them.

"What the fuck was that?!" Brad shouted as he held his gun close. 

"Trouble," I rasped as my eye narrowed. 

"Shit, Jill!” He realized and looked around before spotting a phone booth and rushing into it. He began to rifle around his pocket. 'Goddamnit! Does anyone have some change?" He asked the group. Moving to the booth, I reached in through the broken side and ripped open the coin case at the bottom. Grabbing some, he quickly dialed a number.

"Come on, come on! Answer the phone." 

…

You figure Jill would be used to nightmares seeing as she had one every night since the Arklay Incident. But once again, she found herself startled awake at her desk.

"Fucking hell,” She sighed. “Just gets worse every night." She stood up to eye her calendar

"Three more days, then I kiss this town goodbye." She said to herself, trying to help her mood. This thought made her turn to her bed and the pills all over her small countertop. 

Have a problem sleeping? Pills. A mild form of PTSD? Pills. Have recurring nightmares about your friends being torn to pieces or you killing yourself, so you don't become an undead abomination? Pills.  The wonders of modern mental health. She wanted to kick that therapist. 

Flipping on her light as she moved through her apartment, she noticed the sounds of sirens.

"Wonder what's going on out there?" She mused eyeing her conspiracy web as she walked to the bathroom, the sound of water flowed loud in the quiet against the static of her t.v.

Walking into the dark bathroom, she moved her hand to the light switch by the mirror before hesitating. Come on, Jill. It was just a bad dream. She flicked on the light switch and studied herself in the mirror.

There, you see. No rotting skin, no milky eyes, no chunks of missing flesh. Just an exasperated cop with a few issues. Breathing a small sigh of relief, she turned off the water and headed into her kitchen. Better eat something. Or clean up, She amended as she studied all the trash on her kitchen table. Then her home phone began to read

"Oh, who's that now?" As she went back into the living/ failed sleeping room. 

"Hello?" She answers, picking up the phone.

"Oh, Jill! Thank God! Listen, you have to get out of there! Right now!"

"Brad? Slow down what's happening?" She asked, concerned, hearing the urgency in his voice.

"Arklay everywhere! And to top it all off, Umbrella sent something after you!" 

"What do you mean something?!" She shouted back, sense now peeled for anything out of the ordinary. She quickly grabbed her Samurai Edge pistol and strapped it to her waist.

"According to my new friend, it is trouble, and when he says something is trouble, I am taking that to mean run like hell!"

"What new friend?" She asked as she got her small backpack of guns, gear, and medical spray. Slinging it over her shoulder 

"He is like that thing from the roof only a lot nicer and a lot less naked."

"... you're walking around with a fucking Tyrant?!" She shouted just as something came crashing down from the roof. A long limb is smacking in her chest, sending her flying against the other wall.

"Jill, what was that?! Jill?!" Brad shouted from the phone as a clawed foot crushed it. Scrambling back, she quickly grabbed her nearby Samurai Edge 9mm and started unloading at Mr. H. Every shot hitting its head. But it didn't care as it lunged over, catching her face with its clawed hand and holding her against the wall. It's maw opened wide to reveal bits of the other tenants; it made a meal off on the way down from the roof. 

Thinking quickly, she slammed the muzzle against its large bloody right eye and unloaded a shot causing it to release her with a roar as it clutched its face. As she hit the ground, she immediately took off for the door, pack secure on her back. Slamming the metal door behind her, she saw it pop what was left of its eye in its mouth and eat it!

I think God hates me sometimes. She felt as she ran for the exit as the door caved in behind her. Not looking back, she made a break for the exit door. But whether by some innate sixth sense, good luck, or random tingling of the neck, her body dropped right before the exit. A whistling sound passed above her head. Giving the door a look, she saw numerous spikes penetrating it as well as the wall around it.

Because claws, size, and fangs weren't enough! She thought to sprint into a nearby apartment! Grabbing a nearby bookcase, she blocked the door and made a break for the open window. 

"Gotta get out of here,” Jill told herself, climbing out the window. The second she was on the fire escape, she saw a sight she was hoping she would never have to see again after the Mansion. Pure chaos.  

In the next few minutes, Jill would never be clear on how she made it. Her body was in survival mode, and thoughts would slow her down. She remembered making it to the next floor down and rolling past the creature as it came crashing down again. Next thing she was crawling under a downed roof piece as the world burned around her.

  Why was the building on fire? She would later ask herself. Feeling a claw on her leg, she unloaded the rest of her clip into its hand, making it let go.  Making a break for the opened door, she was just about free when the explosion rocketed her out the door—slamming her into the rail with a pain-filled groan. How do I still have ribs? She thought, holding her stomach as she raced down the stairs. Just a few steps away from the ladder leading down to alley Jill was once again reminded me life sucks

The creature barrels through the brick wall and grabs Jill, tossing her back into the burning hallway. But as Jill scrambled backward, her biggest concern wasn't being cooked alive, but the giant fanged abomination is licking its lips as it stalked towards her. Raising her gun, she tried to unload only to hear the worst sound an armed forces member can listen to—the click of an empty gun. Snarling, the beast raised its claw and brought it down on her.

At least the nightmare is over. But someone had sent a guardian demon to save her. A tentacle wrapped itself around her body and pulled her through the air just as the claw cut through the floor, causing it to cave in. She was sending the creature falling to the next level. 

All of a sudden, Jil was caught by something substantial, and yet despite the size or maybe because of it, whoever found her was surprisingly gentle. Placing his large left limb as a way for her to sit safe from the flames, Jill turned to face her rescuer and was shocked.

His face was inhuman. Despite the bottom half of it being covered by a S.T.A.R.S bandana, the rest told her enough. He looked like science and madness mashed together. Half his face was sewn over covering the right eye. But his left eye was blue and crackling like electricity. But there was something familiar in them. 

"Hold...on." He warned, his voice sending a chill down her spine, just as the floor caved in. Jill wrapped her arms around his head tight. She was acting more on instinct then reasonable, though. Flexing his knees, he absorbed the fall casting Jill little pain and drawing a Gatling-like gun from his hip; he started to unload on the monster, backing up all the while towards the exit. The beast crossed its arms and rushed the duo.  Sheathing his gun, he began to dodge the swipes with a grace something his size shouldn't have. 

Flipping the rocket launcher on his back under its arm, he slammed the back end into the creature's chin. Sending it flying back a little before righting itself and snarling a red laser on its head. 

"Play...dead." He ordered, firing the rocket and turning around already a safe distance away as the creature crossed its arms to try and defend itself. The giant man placed Jill protectively on his chest.  Arms wrapped around her as they rushed out of the building roof, collapsing behind them. He didn't stop moving even when they were outside. His walking speed was the average person's running speed. 

Jill looked at the chaos around her. The burning buildings, corpses of innocent people, and the smell of death and rot.  Oh my God, what's happening? Oh dear God...this is a Tyrant . She realized looking at her savior, still carrying her. He was heading straight for a bar called Jacks.  Rushing inside, he placed Jill down next to the counter and grabbed a table with each hand to bar the door.

…

Okay. That should hold for a minute. I threw a barstool against the door for good measure.  It was then I turned back to Jill, who was pointing a gun on me? Do I suck at first impressions? I wondered as I raised my hands slowly.

Chapter Text

"Don't you fucking move!" Jill shouted, gun trained on my face as she stood a few feet away. Honestly, I am sure I could rip the weapon out of her hand with my tentacle before she could get a shot off.  I just said ‘with my tentacle’. Why do I even have one?! I thought to myself as another question emerged.   But I didn't do that. So I did the only thing I could think of. The only thing that felt right to me. I should have seen this coming.

"What are you doing?!' She demanded as I slowly got down on my knees, and moving at a snail's pace took off every single weapon I had and slid them over to her. Out of reach from me but close at hand for her. 'What the hell are these for?!" 

"Help." I rasped out, keeping eye contact with her. It wasn't hard since I was around her height on my knees.

"They are not gonna do you a lot of good over here." She sneered. I just shook my head. 

"Help..you," I said, honestly. Funny enough, I accepted I was going to die here. Killed by this woman I had just saved. I couldn't hate her for it to be honest.  There was no telling how long I was going to be well, me—I was a living time bomb in leather. Who had I been kidding? I am a monster—no changing that. I was sent here to kill people, and here I am trying to be a hero. What a crock of shit!  As the wave of realization and sadness hit, bypassing whatever kept my emotions in check.

…

Jill just eyed down the monster who had just saved her. One of the same kinds of monsters that helped kill her friends back at Spencer Mansion. The same kind that haunted her dreams! The same kind that was currently destroying her city!  

"Help me?! You wanna help me?!' She shouted, grabbing the heavy shotgun he had been using. It was so heavy she needed two hands to pick it up but she didn't care about that. Or the pain in her chest she jammed it against his head. All caution went with the wind as her emotions started to burst out of her.

 “You wanna help me so bad?! Act like the fucking the monster you're supposed to be! Kill, maim, and destroy! Like those monsters that killed my friends! Like the monsters scratching at the door! Like the ones that haunt my every dream! Why did you save me?! Why are you acting like a person?! Just tell me why I should trust you?!" Before she knew it, she was holding back  tears as she ripped the bandanna away to reveal his full grotesque face! Hoping it would help solidify him as a monster

The monster just looked at her. She was hoping for rage or some other indication he would try something. But there was no anger, no dark emotion, or evil  clouded those eyes, as he made no motion to move the gun from his head. All he did was kneel there and stare at her with that blue eye that shone with sadness and, although she didn't want to accept it, humanity.

"Shouldn't.' He said as his arms dropped to his sides. Not even his voice could hide the sorrow. 'Brad..garage..survivors...heli." He croaked out, ignoring the blood talking so much caused in his mouth.

"Why are you telling me this? I am about to kill you?!" Understanding that Brad and some survivors were at the nearby parking garage for a helicopter. He was quiet for what seemed like the longest time before answering.

"Right..thing." He answered as he closed his eye and leaned into the gun. Jill was just about to pull the trigger when she saw something that shocked her to the core. Something that made her take her finger off the trigger of. A thin stream of blood was leaking down his eye. As though he was.

He is crying. Why is he crying? Monsters don't cry. Just fucking kill him! He might kill you! But he had plenty of chances to do that, though. So what? He is most likely working with that thing from the apartment! No, then why would he kill it? Does it matter? Shouldn't it? HE IS A MONSTER! A TYRANT! A WEAPON OF UMBRELLA!  No. He isn't. THEN WHAT IS HE?! IF HE ISN'T A WEAPON?  A MONSTER?! WHAT IS HE?! He...he is just another one of their victims. Like me. As she realized this, all the strength left her body as she sat down in front of him. Gun clattering to the floor next to them. Her eyes closed as silent tears fell down her face. 

Nothing happened for a few minutes until she felt a coarse substance wiping the tears off her cheeks. Opening her eyes, she saw the Tyrant she was seconds away from killing gently cleaning her face. Worry was clear in his eye. She wasn't scared as she looked at his face. For some reason, she started to laugh a little. Here he was comforting the person who was about to kill him.

Oh, my God. He is just like a big ugly dog that follows you home. Soon enough, she started to belt out laughing, uncaring at the zombies scratching on the door. It wasn't funny but for some reason she found it hysterical.  Standing up, she gently smiled at him as taking a nearby napkin off the counter and wiped the blood off his face. Picking up the nearby bandana, she put it on his face like before. Noticing as she did, he smelled faintly like lemons. Oh, my God. They made him lemony fresh. 

"All right, big guy. I am going to trust you here.' She said, stepping back as she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. Well, he stood up while she was holding his arm. No way in hell she was going to pull this giant up. She realized as he towered over her. Holy crap he is a massive bastard.   “So let's get going. Right after I suit up." Unloading her gear from her backpack.

…

"Sir, our trackers have Nemesis in a building around forty feet from where he encountered Mr. H." A tech informed Mr. Y as an N-shaped dot rested on the screen, a corresponding H-dot about a block away. Mr. Y tapped his foot, whether in anger or impatience, they couldn't tell through his suit.

"Valuable combat data lost. All because we didn't have a freaking feed in the building. What are the Overseers doing?" He questioned the room as he folded his arms. The building was on fire while monsters were fighting in it. Sane people don't stay and watch in those situations!  A lot of people in the room thought to themselves, but they held their tongues. They liked breathing too much. 

"Sir, Nicholai is nearby but can't get clear of his team to communicate. All others are too far out." One tech answered. Mr. Y merely grunted in reply.

"Any communication with Hunk or Dr. Bard?" He asked, starting to pace.

"Hunk is still MIA, and Dr. Bard has not attempted communication."

"Someone give me something before I call the cleaning crew again." He said coldly, causing sweat to run down the backs of everyone there.

"Sir, we have something on a sewer cam near a Nest lab entrance." A tech showing footage of some massive lopsided thing running through the sewers. The light was poor, and the only thing they could see was a large eye and a familiar face. 

"Well, that's something. Someone get in touch with that slob Irons. We may be getting the G-Virus after all." As he watched Birkin or at least what was left of Birkin on the screen.

…

"Ready," Jill said, double-checking to make sure her clips and guns were fully loaded, and the knife was in reach as well as a few flashbangs.  Tightening her shooting gloves, and unholstering her Samurai Edge on her thigh, she gave a slight nod. She had taken some fern powder earlier and seemed to be moving better.

"You ready big guy?" She asked me as I reloaded my Rocket Launcher. Making sure all my guns were in easy reach, I nodded. Walking to the back door, I quickly listened for any noises. Not hearing anything, I ducked out into the hallway, Jill right behind me, gun at the ready. As she cleared the door, I closed it behind us and moved a nearby dumpster to block it. 

"All right. Let's head to the garage." As we moved through the alley. We quickly made it to the street, taking in the destruction around us. Seeing this, Jill just shook her head and started to move a little faster down the sidewalk.  Jill stopped, though, and grabbed a gun and some clips from the corpse of a nearby cop.

"Can never have too many guns or bullets." She explained as she placed the G19 in a shoulder. I just nodded in agreement, and we kept moving. As we walked, I saw a billboard falling. So grabbing Jill, I stopped right before the sign fell on her.

"Thanks." Giving her a nod in response, I flipped the sign away, and we continued.

"So, do you have a name?" Jill asked as we walked by a bus filled with zombies.

"Maybe," I answer honestly, thinking about the case I arrived in. My voice was at least, I hope, starting to sound better. At least in my mind. But in truth, it still had that terrifying unnaturalness to it. Everything has a name, right? Might as well use that name for now.

"Well, what is it?" She asked as we moved down another alley through a gate, she checked around each corner carefully.

"Nemesis." I croaked out as we were about to enter a building. Hearing me, Jill turned and looked at me over her shoulder.

"...you need a new name." She told me honestly as we moved into the building. I had to duck and walk sideways in though—stupid average-sized doors.

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" An older man shouted at us as we walked into the building. He quickly made a beeline for an open trailer.

"Sir, please just wait for a minute!' She called out to him just as he shut himself inside the trailer. 'Sir, please, we aren't going to hurt you."

"Yeah, right! Listen, missy, I know your game! You and your gimp giant can go fuck off! I am staying right here!" He shouted at us from inside. 

"Missy?" She repeated out loud.

"Gimp?" What the hell is a gimp? 

"Sir, please. What's your name?" 

"My name is 'Fuck Off!' I am safer here than anywhere else! Hell, I would rather starve to death than be eaten by those monsters out there." He shouted before going quiet. Jill kept trying to talk him out, but all she got was silence or more swearing. Finally, she gave a long sigh and started to walk away. I didn't move for a bit as I watched the trailer. 

"Come on, Nem. Some people don't want to be saved." Jill called as she stood by the door.

"Nem?" I asked, moving towards the door.

"Yep. It's your name. Nemesis sounds too...creepy. What? Don't you like it?" She asked an odd look in her eyes. For some reason, it made me hold up my hands in surrender.

"Nice name," I said sheepishly. 

"Good." And with that, we stepped out of the building. Just as a pair of infected dogs rammed a fence next to us, scaring the shit out of Jill and I. Though I like to think I hide it better—Yey for my mask and no lips and limited facial muscles. Bright side, Nem. Look on the bright side.

"Fuck!" Jill reacted as she aimed her gun at them before sighing and lowering it. No point in wasting ammo. And then she saw the turned-over fence with zombies all over it. A fire truck had hit and caused it to topple. The only thing propping it up was a storage container. 

"Don't think you can fit through here." She said, eyeing the small gap to the parking garage. My response was to eye the container, and kneeling jumped. The force carries me to the top of the box. My weight caused a ew small dents where my feet were. Looking down, I gave Jill a thumbs up. She just looked at the narrow gap with the undead clamoring at the fence and then back to me.

"Help me up there. The easy way all day." She said, reaching up with both hands. Moments later, we were walking towards the elevator. As I pressed the elevator down button, I briefly wondered if I exceeded the weight limit when I heard the ding.

"Hurry up! Oh shit, we are screwed!" Some man in a lab coat said as he and a friend dragged me out of an elevator on a gurney.  I tried to move or scream, but I was strapped down and gagged. My vision was hazy as they dragged into some hospital-like room.

"Relax, man. Miss. Wesker is on our side. All we have to do is switch out that bad clone brain for this fresh one.' His colleague said. “Besides, she said this guy would be better. Who knows? We might get a raise out of this." He tried to assure him with a smile. 

"I just don't want  a 'termination' or worse to be 'volunteered.'' He responded with a shiver. “Besides, how is some random soup kitchen worker going to be better?"  All he got in response was a shrug.

"Because I said so." A woman's voice called out, causing the two to freeze. In a moment, a beautiful blond woman in a white suit appeared in my view. For some reason, I know this woman, and it made me struggle even harder against my restraints. She just smiled and stroked my cheek—her skin like ice.

"I can't believe you survived. You were always so soft, so foolish, and yet you survived. My little…

"NEM WAKE UP THE FUCK UP!" Jill shouted in my ear, causing me to jolt back to reality. And my reality was a pair of zombies clawing at me. They were unable to rip my clothes or bite through my skin. Grabbing a skull with each hand, I slammed them together with enough force they seemed to explode. 

Afterward, I placed my head in my hands and groaned. What the hell was that? Why did I know that lady?

"Bud, you okay? What the hell just happened?" Jill asked, grabbing my arm. 

"Memories," I said, shaking my head and wobbling inside the elevator. Jill followed behind me and pressed the top floor button.

"Anything specific?" She asked gently as we went up.

"Miss Wesker." I groaned as I stood myself up some, causing my head to lift on the light casing. Thankfully my headache is slowly receding.

"...holy shit that asshole has a sister.' She muttered under her breath. 'Don't worry buddy, whwhen we get out of here we are going to get you help." 

They will most likely destroy me. I wanted to say but held my tongue. Do I even have a tongue? Questions for later, I decided as we got to the top of the garage. 

"Jill! Get over here!" Brad shouted over the nearly full helicopter hovered a good bit off the ground as we made our way across the crashed cars and burning wrecks. I saw a familiar shape moving in the corner. What happened next was instinct.

Bending over, I ran at a dead sprint across the roof and jumped at the helicopter. I was placing myself between the spikes shot by the monster and the hospital. I gave a small grunt of pain as a spike embedded itself in my upper shoulder and stomach.

I did not think this through, I realized as I landed shoulder first on the street below. I heard the chopper fly away overhead. Oh, thank God, pain is diluted. Oh shit, Jill! Have to get up there! Standing up, I gritted my teeth, and grabbing a spike with each hand, yanked the foot-long bone spears out of my body. Uncaring about the rapidly healing flesh, I turned around just in time to see a messy-haired soldier pointing a rocket launcher at me.

"Heads up, fuck face." He said, about to fire when an orange mustang came crashing into the street and flip away. The monster from earlier pinned in front of it started to stand up albeit slowly. I will admit to being stunned as I watched Jill roll out of the driver seat.  Note to self. Jill can take care of herself. As the car exploded, sending her flying. I was about to rush in towards her rocket launcher be damned when I saw it,

From the burning wreck, the thing emerged. Its right arm was gone and replaced by a massive tentacle covered in spikes. Half its clothing was gone, more spikes seemed to be there than before and a barbed tongue rolled out of it's damaged head. A bigger, pulsating eye on a stalk replaced the one it lost earlier.  Is this thing mutating? Seeing it step towards Jill I drew both flamethrower and my shotgun and just unloaded on the beast. The whistling of the flamethrower and booming of the shotgun mixed with its screeching as it swung it's tentacle at me. Sending a wave of spikes at my head.

Ducking under the bones I continued to unload both guns. Watching pieces of it go flying and the smell of burnt flesh filling the air. The soldier finally fired his rocket at the beast. I guess he decided it was the bigger threat. The force of the blow caused it to shriek and fall to its knees. I was about to go forward when he fired a round at me. Dropping my shotgun I whipped out my tentacle and caught the missle. God I am starting to love this thing. I thought as I sent the rocket flying away. He was about to launch another when Jill shouted.

"Stop!!' She said rising shakily to her feet before the soldier moved to support her. Dropping the rocket launcher in the process. Dumb move in my opinion. 'He is my...friend." She finished looking back at me with a small smile. Huh. She is really pretty when she isn't scary.  

"...Lady you got weird friends.” The soldier said, draping an arm over his shoulders. “My name is Carlos and I am gonna be your knight in shining armor today." As he started to carry her away. I followed behind close. But not before grabbing a pair of spikes from earlier and stabbing them through the beast's skull and giving it a 360-degree head turn. Listening to his neck shatter.

"Yours." I said to the burning corpse as I followed the soldier currently helping us. Tentacle at the ready to yank Jill away and flamethrower prepared to cook.

…

Unbeknownst to the group. Mr. H's claw started to twitch, and an odd sound started to come from its mouth; one could mistake for...laughter.

Chapter Text

The soldier, Carlos, led us down into a subway tunnel. A small vent filled tunnel that I already hated as my head crashed through a low hanging sign. 

"Okay, we should be safe here.” He told us before turning to glance at me. His finger was never from the trigger of his assault rifle. To be fair my hand wasn't far from my own.“We made sure it was clear down here." 

“Let's hope so. And we?" She asked, moving away from him as she leaned over to catch her breath. I kept an ear open for anything behind us as I kept an eye on Carlos.

"Me and my team. We are converting some old subway cars. Come on this way," he said, about to help Jill. For some reason, I growled at him. Hearing this, he froze. That's right, Nem making friends everywhere.

"I'm fine." She said, holding up a hand. He backed off with a strained smile.

"Personal space. I can respect that. Follow me.' He said, leading the way and immediately came to a stop in front of some shutters. 'Oh, what dipshit closed this?" I moved forward and was about to rip it open.

"Ummm, actually, let just go around.” He told me. I gave a small grunt as he kicked open a side door. “The more walls between us and that thing, the better."  At least Brad and the survivors got out, I thought as I cast a glance at the stairs.

"Speaking of... what do you know about that monster out there?" Jill asked as we moved into a hallway. I had to crouch slightly so I didn't destroy every vent as I walked.  We moved quickly down the hall.

"It is very big, very mean, and very sharp. It isn't a zombie and seems to enjoy killing," he said, moving lightly.

"Me?" I asked in my raspy voice. This caused Carlos to turn around and stare at me.

"Holy shit, you can talk, and you sound terrifying.' He told me, wide-eyed. Ow, my diluted feelings.

"Well, Carlos?” She asked defensively, “You know anything about him?” It is so beautiful, having a friend with fully formed vocal cords.

"Besides that he has weird hobbies, a taste for heavy weapons, and scares me? None. Sorry.”  He said as we were about to turn a corner. “But don't worry you’re in good hands. I am with Umbrella..” He didn't get another word before I passed Jill and wrapped my tentacle around his neck,hoisting him into the air. 

"Umbrella!" I shouted my roar is seeming to vibrate the air around us. My rage was pushing through the dilution as I felt my left hand change. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw claws on the tips of my fingers. They looked sharp enough to carve through the stone. YOU’RE WITH THE PEOPLE WHO DID THIS TO ME?! 

"Nem, please calm down!” Jill told me, holding my clawed hand, causing me to turn my head towards her as I tried holding back the anger. Her voice was soothing as she tried to calm me.

"Why?" I demanded as I tightened my tentacle around his throat. He is one of them!!

"He helped us." That was her only response. Hearing this, my emotions died as quickly as they came. I am not a monster. I thought to myself releasing him, he fell to the ground gasping for air. Seeing this, I felt a stab of guilt at how I lost control. Jill just gave my hand a gentle pat before turning to Carlos, all gentleness gone.

"What the fuck was that for?!" He coughed, getting to his feet.

"That was because you and your employer fucked him, this city, and a whole lot of lives over. All for the almighty dollar and to clean their own shit.” She said pointedly. “They made those monsters; they are the ones responsible for all this,” she informed him.

"Wait. What?” He moved back and started to walk again; his pace visibly faster. “That's impossible. We were sent in to help.” There was a short pause before he continued, “Look, you don't have to trust me, but I am going to shelter. You coming?" He asked, moving through some doors. 

Jill and I shared a quick look.

"Things get hairy. Fire trims hair real nice." She said, nudging me with an elbow as she kept following. I just chuckled a sound reminiscent of falling boulders and kept following—my hand changing back as we walked.

…

"Captain, this fine young lady and her vertically - inclined  friend could use some help," Carlos informed a wounded man in the subway car. Jill walked inside it while I stood outside and stared at the Umbrella soldiers menacingly.  His Captain gave me a quick once over, and I have to give him credit, he didn’t bat an eye. Or even care about the wound in his side. This guy screams old-school.

"Carlos, you didn't even ask the fine young lady and her friend their names?' He asked, his voice heavily accented.  'She is an elite member of R.I.P.D's Special Tactics And Rescue Services. Her name is….something...Valentine."

"It's Jill, and he's Nem," she informed him as she sat down, pistol uncovered for a quick draw. Meanwhile, my hand never strayed too far from my shotgun.

"Nice to meet you, Jill, Nem,” he said, greeting us. “I am U.B.C.S Platoon Leader Mikhail Victor. My team was sent here to rescue civilians." He introduced before groaning in pain from the wound on his stomach.

"And how's that been working?" Sarcasm abounds. 

"Seems shitty." Throwing in my two cents.

"Your friend sums it up well. We have suffered casualties. Keeping them alive has proven more than I can manage, he admitted with sadness in his voice. And there is another stab of guilt. Why isn't that diluted?

"All thanks to your corporate overlord,” Jill added, showing off her black belt in sarcasm. 

"Yes, well. We are doing all we can if we can get this train moving. We can evacuate some survivors. If not, many will die and then try to eat the living, he told us. “Unless your friend can pull us to safety, my men need help."  I wonder. Well, if things get desperate, I can see if I can haul the car with the civilians. Jill thought for a moment glancing down at the civilians in the other car before standing.

"All right, I,” I growled slightly at this, “Sorry. We're in,” she amended. “But, we are doing this for them, not you." So saying, she stared down at the captain. 

"Easy there. We all want the same thing," Carlos tried to reason. Keyword, tried .

"Thank you, Jill, Nem," Mikhail said curtly.

"Here you go, Supercop. We can use this to keep in contact," Carlos said, telling her how the radio worked as he handed one to her.

"I know. That's how radios work,” Jill snarked, taking the radio from Carlos as she started to walk out of the train. I hunkered down and walked into the car following her.

"You can find some gear upstairs,” He called after her. He eyed me nervously as I entered the car. Turning to him, I gave a small sigh that blew the hair out of his face.

"Sorry." And with that, I left. Well, I feel better. Now let's be repairmen.

…

As the duo walked up the stairs, Carlos went to work fixing up his captain.

"Jesus, captain. They really took a chunk out of you, huh?" He joked, hunched over as he applied a  fresh bandage to the wound.

"Nothing I won't miss. Carlos, what's your assessment of our two new friends?" Mikhail asked the recent addition to his platoon. Carlos thought for a minute as he rubbed his neck. Markings still there from the earlier altercation with Nem.

"Supercop is the definition of Valkyrie in my opinion while the big guy is..an unknown variable. But Jill trusts him. And I trust Jill," he told his captain, truthfully albeit he couldn't look him in the eyes for the last bit.

"And the fact she is beautiful doesn't factor in?" He asked with a small grin which Carlos responded in kind.

"Well, it doesn't hurt, sir,” he admitted as he left the car. “Gonna check the car one more time. Make sure we don't lose any valuable parts when we move." 

"One more thing,” Mikhail called out. “Make sure the track is clear. And find out where Nicholai is. Something smells like shit. And it isn't just this subway."

…

"Why would they have stuff padlocked?" Jill shouted as she angrily beat a locked case. Not that this isn't funny, but we should move on. Taking the case from her, I ripped the top of the case and handed it back to her.

"Sticky jar lids the world over must fear you,” she laughed as she grabbed some grenades and spare clips out of the case.

"Hey, Supercop, you topside yet?" Carlos called over the radio.

"Not yet. We stopped for supplies." As I grabbed some first-aid spray and tucked it between my gun-belt and self.  Next outfit, I am demanding pockets. And less leather. Maybe a lovely forest green, I mused as I handed some to Jill.

"Thank you." She placed the spray in a hip pouch.

"You’re welcome," Carlos responded happily.

"Not you. I meant Nem,” she said, cutting his happiness down at the knees. “You still haven't told me the plan."

"Oh, right. We gotta get the infrastructure back online," he explained. 

"How do we do that?"

"First, we gotta get the substation online. I can tell you how to get there when you're outside." 

"Copy that. Jill out,” and she put the radio away.

"People person," I commented with entertainment in my eye. She gave me a hard look. 

"Nem, I just started liking you. Don't make me kneecap you. And you’re not one to talk, hentai man." She said, punching my arm as we headed out. I pretended not to see her shaking her hand in pain. What's hentai?  

As I walked, I stopped. Lets see if I can control this.  As I studied my hands, focusing. There was a slight burning sensation as clawed tips appeared.  I walked to a nearby wall, and placing my hands against the wall, ran down it a bit. I carved deep gouges in the solid concrete with just a bit of pressure. I gave a little nod and turned to see Jill staring at me quite wide-eyed.

"Anything else you can do?” She asked, to which I could only shrug as my fingers returned to normal. Maybe I will grow wings and fly.  “Fantastic." She ducked under an open shutter while I just opened it thoroughly before putting it back. People were running down the street, panic fueling them.

"We gotta get these survivors to the train and get it moving." Hearing this, I got an idea. This is a   Bad Idea. Moving in front of the group, I raised my arms and growled. Screaming in terror they all made a break for the giant here sign painted on the shutter. Jill quickly moved out of their way and flashed me a look.

"That works... I guess.” As she drew and blasted the head off a zombie walking down the alley next to them.  “I think I'll take point this time,” she said as I followed her between the buildings

…

"Status report,” Mr. Y demanded as he sat down in a plastic-covered chair he had security bring in. A Beretta in his lap ready for any bad news he might receive.

"We have Nemesis and Jill Valentine on the street cam, sir."

"I don't suppose he has killed her yet? And what about that S.T.A.R.S member he was with earlier?" he asked, a tinge of hope in his voice.

"No, sir. And we currently have lost track of him. Operatives outside the city have his picture and are on look out. But we do have something else, sir," a tech said, bringing up a live view of a group of police roaming the street. They were armed with MP5 and shotguns. Very well trained by the way they accurately took down a small swarm of undead.

"...and why do I care about this?"

"Mr. H is right on top of them, sir." The tech informed him just as something long and toothy appeared from a dark alley and chopped into the rearmost police officer, dragging  him into the darkness, screaming. For the next few seconds, there was only screaming and the munching of bones and flesh until pure silence.

"Ho..hostile on the right!" shouted the only one with an assault rifle as they lit up the alley. The officers all turned to the right, unleashing a barrage of bullets as they screamed all the while. The assault didn't stop until they all ran out of shells and bullets. They didn't even notice the two other cops behind them get decapitated by some spiked tentacle hand. Their corpses were dragged into the alley.

“Where the fuck is Kim and Thomas?!" The man with an assault rifle yelled right before green liquid was sprayed in his face.

"AAAGGGHHH!!!!" He cried as he felt to the ground clawing at his face, steam rising.

"Oh shit, Eric!" One of them shouted as a barrage of spikes pierced his body. The final man was terrified as he tried to reload his gun desperately when a shadow fell over him. 

The techs in the room froze when they saw what Mr. H had mutated into. Mr. Y just leaned forward, intrigued. Its neck had become long and bendy like a serpent with spikes lining the back of it. Its tentacle had grown five fingers like appendages, all covered in claws. It has easily expanded by a foot in height, and all along its body, pale scale-like armor covered it. Both its eyes had grown stalks.

"Heh.heh...hehe.” It croaked out, laughing at the fear in the man's face as it dragged one clawed finger down his face to the groin. Spilling his guts that it happily gobbled off the ground, insanely giggling all the while. Meanwhile, the man who has poison shot on his face lay groaning. Mr. H hearing this walked over and squatted, watching the man.

".... Why the fuck is it just sitting there?" A tech asked, fear overriding sense.

"It is watching him die. Amazing. Tactics, special abilities, and above all, brutality.” Mr. Y said, leaning back. “Someone take a memo to look back into the Mr. H program. There might be more potential than we thought. It must need mass to grow more." 

It is going to get worse?! Was a terrifying thought. One other thought circled in the heads of many in that room. Remember the paycheck. Worry about your soul later.

…

"I hate alleys," Jill commented as she blew the head off a nearby walker while I nodded in agreement. We quickly moved onto Main Avenue and walked down the street wreckage blocking both ends. The more I see, the more I want to burn Umbrella.. As I looked around and growled.

"Yeah. I'm angry too, big guy,” Jill said as she blew the heads of some zombies behind a security fence. ”Thankfully, violence is suitable for anger management." We stopped at the other end of the street. 

"Okay, Carlos, I'm here. Where do I go next?" She asked into the radio.

"Okay, you see that large red tower in the distance? You will need to take the alley around to get there." Why all the alleys? And of course it's on fire. I groaned as I saw this.

"Did you mean the alley that's on fire?" Jill asked with the same silent groan. Carlos was quiet for a moment.

"..maybe? But I am sure that is no problem for a tall drink of water like yourself.” He flirted. 

"Fuck you.” She replied casually, hanging up. “Not a word.” She warned, pointing the finger at me. “Let's go find a hose."

Tapping her shoulder so she would turn around. I pointed at the hydrant and made a twisting motion. She took a few moments and face-smacked.

"Please, and thank you,” she said, pointing at the alley. I was about to go when I heard it.

"Please help me!" A voice shouted from down the steps. I immediately ran to the source of the sound, Jill right on my heels. Knocking the fences, we saw a group of zombies surrounding a young woman. But even with my speed, I could only watch as they tore out her throat.

"NNNOOO!" I raged, sending my tentacle through the head of two of them, while Jill quickly took down the other two with expert headshots. Not stopping, I tried to stop the bleeding in her neck. Using a piece of her shirt, I decided to make a bandage for her. But it was no use. She kept bleeding.

Why won't he stop bleeding?! I thought as I placed my hands over the red-haired child's heart. I was trying to stop his desperately bleeding. But his blood kept pouring over my small hands, the knife that stabbed him next to me on the cold cell floor.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' I shouted as tears streamed down my face. I killed him!

"No brother, they did. You know they wouldn't haven't let you out of here unless I died,” he said with a smile, blood leaking down his face. “I jumped on your knife. But they put it there. They forced this. You could never have done it. My kind older brother…" He breathes out the last word—his eyes going empty and dead.  Just then, the cell door opens.

"Well, well, I am surprised. You did it. You did it.' A man in a three-piece suit walked in, leaning on a cane. “There might be hope for you, after all. I am almost proud of you to have my last name,” he said with a laugh. Roaring with rage I didn't know I had, I rushed the man with the bloody knife. But before I could reach him, another blade blocked it. I locked my eyes with the interloper. Blue raging eyes meeting ice-cold blue one's.

" And finally, we see that killer instinct all my children should have,” he said, swinging the cane and hitting my skull and nearly cracking it. As I lost consciousness, these were the last words I heard.

"And thank you for the assistance Albert."

I came back to myself kneeling and holding a dead body as bloody tears streamed down my face.

"Another memory?” Jill asked, leaning on my shoulder, gently wiping the tear from my face with one hand. “Wanna talk?"

"Later," I said, praying this sorrow would fade. But I knew, even if it gets pressed down, it will always be there. Jill just nodded as she backed away. Placing the woman's corpse gently on the ground, I stood up and drawing my gun fired a single round. 

"I'm sorry," I said, whether to the woman, the brother I couldn't remember, or someone else I couldn't know. I took a look at the nearby buildings. 

"Maybe.. survivors?" I asked Jll, who just nodded at me. And with that, we started to check the nearby buildings. Please let me find someone to save or something that needs to be re-killed; I prayed silently.

Chapter Text

I was currently crushing the head of a nearby corpse. We had traveled a bit away, searching for survivors, though we hadn't found any, though we did find the track control room. Of course, it wouldn't work without power, but it was nice to know where it was. And next to it, Jill found well... frustration.

"Why is all the good stuff locked up?!” Jill demanded as she hit the chain-locked security door, currently keeping her from a shotgun. “Let's find some bolt cutters or… hey, Nem?" she asked, turning back to me. Giving a small grunt, I casually ripped the gate off and handed her the shotgun with my free hand.

"What a gentleman," she complimented me as she studied the shotgun. Noticing a full box of Steel Boys, she took them out and placed them in a hip pouch. As she was checking the sights on the gun, I was ripping open every locker there. If they kept a shotgun here, they should keep other things.   And... found a grenade… this is a weird city.  

"Find anything good? That's... a grenade,” Jill realized a bit wide-eyed at the randomness of it in a locker, taking it carefully and examining it before placing it on her belt. Then making sure the shotgun was loaded, she slung it snug over her shoulder with the strap. “So ready to talk about it?" 

"...how?" I asked, genuinely curious, pointing at my throat. I can speak maybe two or three words at a time; any more and my throat tears or something. I physically can't seem to go over four at most. Jill thought about this for a minute before spotting a desk.

"Do you know how to write?" she asked as she got a notepad and pen. Shrugging, I took the pen and paper.

"To be a child of mine, is to be a person of elegance and style,” the man said as he paced the front of the classroom, a slim rod grasped loosely. “Therefore, everything must be art... from business to handwriting." As he said this, he brought his rod down on my hand, the force breaking the skin and numbing my fingers. 

"Chicken scratch is unpermitted number 23. Always the problems with you," he said with a sigh, not noticing my younger brothers even worse writing. I got him just enough time to erase it. Of course, this didn't get unnoticed by them. 

"What a weakling," Albert commented as his writing was borderline art. The blonde girl next to him just giggled.

"Yes," I replied, trying not to break the pen with my grip. I carefully wrote down all the memories I had remembered so far. But as I got to the one with my brother. I started to cry again. Why can't I remember his name, at least? As I finished writing, I handed the pad to Jill as I wiped the tear off. 

"Holy shit, your handwriting is like calligraphy," she commented as she began to read.  The more she read, the more fury appeared on her face. By the end of the pad, I was surprised it didn't combust from her glare.  Finally, she put the paper down and took a few deep breaths. Calmly, almost scary calm picked up a chair and beat the ever-loving shit out of a table with.

"WHY THE FUCK IS EVERY WESKER A GODDAMN ASSHOLE?! HOW THE FUCK CAN THESE FUCKS CALL THEMSELVES PEOPLE?!” She shouted as the chair broke apart from the fury of her swings.  “FUCCCKKKK!!!!" Jill roared as she flipped the table over. As she turned back towards me, I can proudly say I only lightly flinched.

"Nem, we are gonna find out who you were, who your brother was, what happened to you, and a boat with a drain," she promised, walking over and gently holding my hand. Her face was solemn and kind. And I I thought I switched emotions quickly.

"Boat?" I asked with a tilt of my head. I was enjoying the physical contact. It made me feel like a person.

"Yeah. When we capture them, we need to be able to drain the blood when we torture then over international waters," Jill said with a smile that I responded in kind. Well, I tried to. But with the lack of lips, and a bandanna covering my face, it might have been hard to see. 

"Now come on, let's go turn the power on. So we can get the hell out of here."

…

Mr. H was currently moving through the city along the rooftop, it’s new size not hindering the speed at all. As it progressed, it would occasionally stop and snack on a survivor or zombie though it preferred to eat humans. Those last few moments of their lives as they cried and begged gave it a warm feeling in its chest.

As it moved, it heard a familiar hissing sound. Moving to a roof edge, it watched a human survivor using a shiny metal tube to spit a steady stream of fire. It also watched the burning, stumbling undead. 

"Burn you unholy fucks! Feel the wrath of God, whores of hell!" he shouted as he unleashed another stream.  On their back was a large canister similar to the one the Hated One used.

Pain. Fire. Flying metal. Destroy.  Getting an idea, or a surge between it's head and it's lower spine. Mr. H launched a spike at the large canister easily piercing into it. This caused an odd gas to flow out, and it caught a nearby spark  and exploded. Then the human exploded in a shower of guts and blood.

Damage can destroy flame. Break the hurting metal. Disable the Hated One. Have a warm feeling as we kill Jill Valentine. Make the One watch! As it thought this a wicked laugh spilled from its mouth as taking in a deep breath tracked down it's prey.

…

As Jill watched Nem work with unscrewing the hydrant, she took a moment to think about him. In the span of a few hours, she had learned a lot about him. When you have had the kind of training and experiences, you get good at reading people. He never hesitated when it came to putting down the undead, but there was never any hate when he did it. He just did it. They needed to die, and he did it.  And while he was protective of her, it wasn't overprotective. More often than not, he let her handle the undead while he covered the rear. But deep down, he wasn't meant for violence, she could tell. It was brief, but when he fired his gun or destroyed an undead, there was always a flash of sadness. Was he capable of killing a person? Yes. Could he live with it? ...She didn't want to find out.

But one other question bothered her, Why would they pick some random person off the street to be a replacement brain? But it wasn't random; it sounds like....  According to what he has remembered, he knew that bitch Wesker from somewhere and, assumingly her brother, Albert as a kid. And who was that older man? I need to contact Chris after this. We have to get Nem to a safe place and figure this out. Maybe he knows people in the UK.

"God, you are like a universal tool covered in leather," Jill commented as Nem shut the water off. Mind refocusing on the task at hand. Survive first, then background check. He just scratched the back of his head as his eye closed in happiness. The contrast is astounding . She thought with a smirk. As they rounded the corner, they came across a door.  Jill quickly moved through it but turned when she heard a grunt behind her. She tried not to laugh, she swore she did, but a snort still escaped her. Nem was very much stuck in the door.  No matter how he turned or maneuvered his fuel tank for the flamethrower, he was caught.

"Leave it?” she suggested and got a pointed look like when you tell a kid they can only bring one toy. “Is there another way around?" Nem took a look over a stone wall next to him.

"Garage door.” He said, placing his hands on top of it. “Meet you." And crouching cleared the seven-foot wall with one standing leap. Show off. She thought as she grabbed a pair of bolt-cutters from a shelf and cut the chain on the garage door. 

…

Landing on the other side, I made sure to avoid the corpse. Kneeling, I made my right index finger a claw and was about to pierce the brain when I saw the bullet hole. Sighing, I turned my finger back to normal and offered a silent prayer. May you rest in peace. Then I heard the gunshot, and what followed was Jill yelling.

Giving a snarl, I walked to the shutter doors and slammed it open. Readying my rocket launcher with my left hand.  I had the laser dot trained on a soldier, halfway on the steps.

"Okay?" I asked Jill, walking inside, keeping the weapon trained on him. For some reason, his face was familiar, and I didn't like it.

"You always need a monster to fight your battles?" He asked hand, moving slowly to his pistol right up till Jill drew and fired her Samurai Edge, giving a cut to the back of his hand. He held it  with an angry grimace.

"No, he is just the threat. I am the violent one,'' she replied, keeping the gun trained on the gray-haired man. “Asshole just killed his teammate." Hearing this, I glanced over at a fallen corpse.

"He was infected," the man argued, hands raised. Keeping the launcher trained on him, I used my tentacle to move the corpse shirt and gear to get a look at his wound. 

"Stab. No bite," I said plainly. Hearing this, the guy just shrugged. 

"Better safe than sorry,” he said with a smile. I noticed the U.B.S.C logo. 

"God, you're a fucking dick." 

"And you're a bleeding heart fool who hangs out with freaks,” he replied, walking up the steps. “Go back to the subway station. I doubt either of you has the guts to kill me anyway." 

Jill gave a quiet look of anger as she put her gun away. If my emotions weren't controlled I might have unloaded a shotgun shell in his ass.

"Why is it always fuckers like that the zombies don't eat?"

"Taste bad," I reasoned, trying to help her mood. She gave a tired smile before looking at the fallen body with a sigh.

"Come one, let's get to that substation." 

…

Nicholai quickly moved into a nearby empty building. Blocking the door and checking every inch of the room, he took out a particular radio.

"This is Nicholai calling Control. Nicholai to Control.”

"This is Mr. Y, Nikolai. From now on, you speak to me. Is that clear?"

"So long as the money is green and plentiful, I would be content speaking to the Devil himself."

"And the red on that money?"

Nicholai gave a small laugh. "As long as it's not mine, I could care less."

"Excellent. Have you made contact with Jill Valentine and the Nemesis?"

"Yes, sir. I was under the impression he was supposed to be hunting the S.T.A.R.S."

"There have been...anomalies. We are tracking him through his weapons, and you are to follow him. Make notes of his movements and actions. Also, be wary."

"Why?"

"We have a... let's say wild asset in the mix after Jill Valentine. This one doesn't have the same team skills as others. So be wary of laughter. Mr. Y out."

"Cryptic asshole,” he commented, spraying his cut with a first aid spray and wrapping it slightly.

...

"What the fuck is that?" Jill asked as we stared at the nest-thing on top of the substation from the control room. With my vision, I noticed the odd creature moving around it.

"Bug nest," I said, wishing I could blow it up. She gave a small shiver in disgust.

"God-damn fucking bugs. Why is there always a giant bug?” She asked the sky. Shaking her head as she drew her gun. “One giant snake, and I am completely done." Giant snake? 

"Okay, so there appear to be four switches and then the main switch. So we should split up and get it done quickly.” I raised a non-existent eyebrow. “And yes, I said we should split up. Faster that way. Let's move."

As we walked down the stairs, the smell hit us: all rot, shit, and death. Everything was covered with some kind of slime web crap. I kept an ear open for any odd noise as we made our way to the padlocked gate. Jill picked up a nearby note next to some green herbs.  After a quick read, she went pale and grabbed a bunch of leaves.

"Grind these. Into a fine powder," She said, handing them to me.

"Why?" 

"Because they lay larvae in people's throat and then bust out through the mouth and stomach. This throws them up." She said, gagging slightly. Grimacing, I grabbed the leaves and placed them in a nearby mortar and, using a pestle that was next to herbs, went to work. It wasn't long before I had a baggie filled with them.

"You want some?" She asked as she put the baggie away. I just shook my head as I spotted something on a nearby corpse. Moving over quickly, I took a box from the body, causing it to fall over and bugs to crawl out. It took all I had not to burn everything right then.

"What you find?" Jill asked shotgun gripped in one hand. Handing over the box, she tucked the gun under her arm as she pulled a lock-pick out of the box. “Score." As she went to work in the gate as I stood behind her. 

Hearing something, I turned around to find nothing? That's weird….fuck it's above me, isn't it? Looking up, I saw a mass of legs, claws, and drooling pincers leap at me. 

“Jill!" I shouted, grabbing its legs as it's bottom pair of talons pierced into my side. Jill tried to get a bead on it.

"You're too close!" She shouted as she moved around. She was keeping the shotgun trained on the creature.  All of a sudden, a long-tube tongue thing shot out of its mouth. Moving my head, I followed my instinct and chopped down it from the side. Thankfully the bandana blocked the juice. Well, most of it. Oh, God! Where is gasoline when you need to rinse? Whipping my head the other way, I ripped the tube clear out of its head, causing it to rear backward in pain. The second it fell back, Jill blew it away with one good shot.

Ripping the lower half off, I turned one hand into a claw and stabbed it through the thorax of another big jumping at Jill from behind. Turning around, she immediately blew to pieces.

"Fuck bugs,”  She shouted, cocking the gun as she kicked open the gate. “Let's get this done." She went left as I went right, flamethrower at the ready. Fuck bugs.

As I moved through the bugs, crushing and burning anything that scuttled or crawled, I felt a chill on my nape. Something is watching me. It was that thing from the apartment and the garage I knew. Why won't it die?  

…

Nicholai watched the duo from a nearby building roof as undead lay around him. Heads were missing or destroyed from them. He was currently using a special telescope video camera to record the Nemesis’ actions.

"Well, at least it has the power of a monster,” he commented as it tore through a group of Krawlers. He knew there was another name for them, but honestly, he had forgotten. Wait a minute. Something isn't right. Nicholai felt a shiver run down his spine as he began the roofs next to him.

"...oh shit,” he whispered as fear gripped his knees. It took every ounce of self-control and discipline not to run. Not even 20 yards from him was Mr. H, and he was terrifying . Every inch of it was a testament to cruelty and atrocity.  Easily ten feet tall, its left arm had developed almost shield-like protection around the forearm. Its right arm was still a massive tentacle claw with spikes all over it. To rip and grind. The legs were longer now and curved inwards for more power. The better to pounce and chase. Its chest still bore the suppression cloth, so it hadn't developed further. But it's white flesh pressed against it and grew from between the gaps. Like a butterfly from hell trying to break free from the cocoon. Along its long snake-like neck were spines as long as a knife and most likely twice as sharp. Its face was a grotesque fusion of reptile, virus, and a horrible imitation of a human face. Its jaw hung open as poison dripped down its face as it's stalk-like eyes focused on Jill and Nemesis. 

It hasn't seen me yet. Move slowly to the door, Nicholai. Very slowly. He thought to himself as she edged over to the door. Opening it, an undead came barreling through acting on instinct he drew and fired in one motion destroying the brain. The sound was echoing around him.  He dashed through the door, slamming it behind him as spikes pierced it. 

He took the steps two to three at a time expecting to hear the crash of the door behind him. But it never came through, that didn't slow him down.  Nikolai stopped at the building entrance and looked through some boarded up windows and checked for Mr. H or mutants. Across the street was the substation.

Let's just wait here for now. Once that thing is occupied, I can make a break for it. He planned as he hunkered down and kept his ears open. Drawing his gun, he played the waiting game, never knowing the beast was right above the outside of the window. Hiding in the shadow of the building and waiting.

…

I quickly moved through the nest. My claws let me slice through the webbing and wire-fence with a few swipes. After flipping the second switch, I was looking for Jill, which wasn't hard considering the trail of mutant bug parts leading the way. I found her caving in the skull of Krawlers with her shotgun butt.

"No! Tongue! On! The! First! Date!" she shouted, giving a vicious beating with each word. She didn't stop till it was mush.  Hearing me approach, she brought up her gun, ready to unload before seeing me. 

"Being watched," I told her as she flipped the last switch. 

"Well that explains the chill down my spine,” she commented, flipping the last switch. “My money is on tall and scaly. Mutant fuckers don't die right." Should I feel offended by that? I wondered as we made our way back to the main office. But as we made up the stairs to the metal door Jill paused.

"Oh shit. Was the mutant comment racist?" she asked, looking over her shoulder. I couldn't help it. I laughed. A long loud laugh. And it wasn't that bad of a sound. Sure there might be an avalanche with less boom but it wasn't as bad as I feared. And for a moment I was happy. Right until a spike pierced my tank and sparked. My last thought before I pushed Jill and tossed my launcher through the metal door, using my tentacle to close it behind them, was very simple.

Fucking mood killer. And then I knew pain.

Chapter Text

The explosion dented the metal door and destroyed the window next to it.  Jill rushed to her feet.  The launcher was lying next to the control panel, both of them miraculously intact. She rammed her shoulder hard against the door, trying to force it open.

"NEM!" she shouted, moving to the control panel to see if she could find him.  The first thing she saw was a massive claw coming at her face before a flaming tentacle wrapped around it and dragged Mr. H crashing to the ground under the window.

"Hurry!” Nem shouted from outside as roars and crashing sounds echoed below. “Meet at the subway!" he shouted as something substantial slammed against the side of the building. Gnashing her teeth together in rage, she quickly restarted the substation. She was not even given a moment to enjoy the massive nest being destroyed by the electricity. Trying to support her friend, however, she could as she took out a flashbang grenade.

"Watch your eye!" Jill shouted down at Nem, cocking the grenade as she tossed to the right of where she heard his voice—grabbing the launcher as she went.  Holy crap, this is heavy! Slinging it over her shoulder, she rushed out the door, radioing Carlos as she went.

As the door closed behind her, the sound of a painful shriek graced her ears. Take that, you scaly bitch.

…

Bet that sucks huh you scaly bitch. I thought with a smirk as I watched the freak flail around, its hands covering its face. Meanwhile, I knew my back was currently on fire, and I knew the pain was there, but I ignored it.  Grow. Be better. I heard a voice in my head as it felt like ants were crawling under my skin. 

"No," I said out loud, tasting burnt flesh on my tongue. My bandanna had been burned off, and my full awful visage was in view.  But I did not care as I felt the fire go out on my back and felt my skin healing and hardening. Improve. Adapt

"Stop," I responded as I rushed the freak. Making a tight fist with my right, I slammed it hard against its gut, the blow lifting it a few inches off the ground before I grabbed a spike at the base of its neck and yanked down.  Turning my right hand into a claw, I aimed for the fucker's heart.

Let's see how you come back without a heart! It blocked it with it deformed left arm that felt like solid steel as my fingers broke against it.  It giggled at my pain and, not giving me long to think as it struck, bit down on the tube from the box on my chest, heaving me over the roof, tearing it off in the process. Guess I will find out what that was for in a bit... 

Now would be a good time for those wings,  I wished as I caved in the roof of a parked car, just as Jill was walking next to it. She was carrying my rocket launcher on her back.

"Keep moving," I said, knowing she would try to stay. She gave me a grim nod and made a break for the alley. Looking up, I saw a pair of massive feet coming aiming for my head. I rolled off the roof just as they came crashing down, folding the car into a v-shape. Using my healed up hand, I drew my shotgun.  As I moved back, I unloaded it into the vehicle. I was aiming for the fuel tank, and luckily I hit it.

It just ignored the explosion and bits of metal sticking out of it. All it did was giggle as the flames burned it.  With one swing, it launched its massive clawed tentacle at me. Putting my gun away, I grabbed a talon with each hand and caught it. The power still sent me sliding across the street. I didn't stop till my back hit a wall casting it to crack. Fuck this! Bracing my feet, I used everything I had and pulled its body and all off the ground and slammed it again and again at the wall. 

Time to go medieval.  I quickly released its arm as I moved towards it, ripping a stop sign out of the ground as I did. Rearing it back I swung with all my strength cutting deep into the shoulder. Yanking it out, causing brackish blood to ooze out, I gave another swing, cleaving through it with an all-mighty swing. 

Always double tap. I was aiming for its neck this time with the swing.  It twisted out of the way and shot a green slime at my face. Moving the sign around to block the slime, I watched it eat right through the metal. Jesus fuck. And I thought its breath was terrible.   Just then, it swept its left arm across my legs, knocking me down. Next thing I knew, it was on top of me slamming the massive arm down at my face.

Getting my arms up, I managed to block the hammer-like blow, although I felt my arms crack in the process. Again and again, it slammed down each hit breaking my arms as well as the ground underneath more and more.  The whole time it didn't stop giggling. Until finally, I couldn't keep my arms up anymore. Seeing this, the monster fully stretched its neck out upwards and gave a loud yell of victory.  It stretched its jaws impossibly wide, intending to bite my head right off. Not a bad idea.

Rearing up, I bit deep into its neck right below its head and tore out a chunk of it. Blood sprayed all over my face as it began to thrash in pain. Bucking it off, I tackled it and started running and crashing through wall after wall holding it by the elbow and right thigh. Each hit brought a shriek of pain and another fucking giggle. Until finally, we hit the air and landed on a car.

"Holy shit!" Jill shouted, drawing her shotgun and pointing at us. I had ended up back at the garage, where we met that asshole. And I went to work .

…

Jill watched with grim interest as Nem went to work on the freak that had been chasing them. He started by grabbing a nearby pole and drove it deep through its mouth and into the concrete floor. Even with the freak pinned to the ground, its laughter never faltered.

""SHUT! UP!" Nem rasped loudly, then while stomping down hard on the creature's chest, he ripped it's arm from the socket. Not satisfied with the damage done so far, he continued stomping on the creature until its waist and legs were an unrecognizable mess of blood, bones, and gore. Still the creature continued laughing, its shrill noise echoed into the silent darkness.  Until in one last rage fueled moment Nem grabbing the top of its jaw ripped the fucking freak's head clean. Tossing it away as he walked away.

Jill was very grateful at the moment Nem was on her side. That happiness was replaced by worry when she saw the state of him. His clothes were in tatters, and he was still wounded. She could tell he was healing at a visible rate, but  the weirdest part was it seemed like his body was fighting itself. His flesh was growing and shrinking even as his eye showed evident exhaustion.

"What's wrong?” she asked as they walked into the side room. Just as Nem walked through the door, she popped a grenade and tossed it by the car and the still form of the monster. The second that door was closed and they heard the explosion, Nem collapsed to his knee, barely supporting himself. '”Nem, what's wrong?!" she asked again, slightly panicked, placing a hand on his back, feeling his flesh move under her hand.

"Body...changing. Try to stop," he responded as he closed his eye in concentration. His body stopped trying to grow for a moment. Rising shakingly to his feet, Jill handed him the launcher, which he used as a cane. 

"Under control," he said as sweat trickled down his face. Must improve. Damage is great. This is my body! For better or worse, if we don't work together, we die! So let us grow. Bigger isn't always better. If we leave this city, blending in is more helpful—… reasonable. However preparing body for secondary form.  Deal?

"Are you sure? If you need to, you can rest up here. I can change the tracks and come back. " She asked, concern in her eyes. Jill didn't let it out, but inside was the slim worry. If he did mutate and became like the others..she would have to destroy him. How the hell I would do that is another problem, s he thought with a dark realism.

"Can move," I told her, standing up and walking to the door, slinging my launcher over my right shoulder as I went. Opening the door, I made a bowing motion to Jill and stepped back. I wished I had a hat to tip right now. And hopefully this secondary form isn't much worse. She gave a little snort as she did a mock curtsy, and Samurai Edge at the ready, took point.

…

The room was quiet as Mr. Y stood right at the front of the room, watching the fight between Mr. H and Nemesis. He would get to the end where they disappeared into the garage and then rewind it. This process was repeated several times.

"...do we have any info on that donated brain, eye, heart, and spinal column?" He asked his blackened visor reflecting the fight. 

"Limited, sir. All we have is a name from the driver's license, and that he worked in a local soup kitchen." One of the techs responded, bringing a picture of a reasonably good-looking black-haired man with blue eyes. Mr. Y studied the image for a moment.

"Run a background check of him right now." He ordered the techs as they hurried to obey.  It wasn't long before a red 'No records' sign flashed on the screen.

"We can't, sir. The license and name are all fake." A scared analyst responded as she sunk in the chair, trying to hide from the unknowing gaze of Mr. Y

"You're telling me that someone put an unknown brain inside the Nemesis?” he asked, his voice as dangerous as a cobra. “Who authorized this?" 

"That would be me, Mr. Y," a blonde woman replied with a knowing smirk appearing suddenly on the monitor. 

"Alex Wesker. What did you do?" he asked, his disdain almost taking a physical form. Alex just gave a small smile. Dressed in a white pantsuit as she sat on a couch probably worth more than most people's cars. Like a cat watching a mouse on a wheel she looked at the man in the hazmat suit.

"Why, Mr. Y. Whatever could you mean?" she asked in mock confusion.

"What I mean is,” moving to a nearby computer and with a few clicks brought up footage of the Nemesis. His suppression clothing in tatters and inhibitor apparatus gone. “His inhibitor is gone, and his clothing is in ruins. He has not mutated. What did you do?" 

Alex sat there for a moment before doing something completely unexpected. She laughed—an awful cold laugh like a witch from a fairy tale.

"Even now, he is rebellious. He is still defiant! How amazing!" She said as she laughed.  Mr. Y slammed a gloved fist on the computer, breaking it. His body trembled with rage.

"You have ruined my experiment! You have ruined my project. You have ruined my work!" He shouted in rage.

"Mr. Y, this is not your work.' An elderly but firm voice spoke from beside. The camera was panned to reveal an elderly man dressed in monogram robes confined to a wheelchair. “Everything you do. Everything you are. Everything you create is property of Umbrella and, by extension, my property." He said eyes narrowed as he gripped a cane in his hand.

"Lord Spencer, sir." Mr. Y respectively said bowing slightly. His tone was doing a complete turn. Every person there immediately snapped to attention and gave a small bow. If Umbrella was Hell then Oswald E. Spencer was the Devil. Well he and his two partners. Marcus who had been 'terminated' according to rumors and Ashford missing for many years. Now Spencer rules this kingdom of mad science and monsters.

"Mr. Y, continue your experiments and report all findings to Alex," Lord Spencer ordered, his tone final like a judge's gavel. Swallowing his rage, Mr. Y promptly replied. He didn't want to be terminated.

"Of course, sir. But sir, who did we put in the Nemesis?" Lord Spencer was quiet for a moment before he gave a long laugh that turned quickly into a hacking cough. Alex immediately placed a handkerchief to his mouth, wiping his face.

"Thank you, my dear. And as for your question. Why the prodigal son of course," he said with a smirk as he ended the call. Mr. Y just stood there for a moment almost shaking with anger.

"Does anyone else have anything to report?" He asked, clenching his fist in anger behind his back. One tech nervously spoke up.

"There is the mutant worm, sir." He announced in barely a whisper. Mr. Y slowly turned his head and stared at the soon to be volunteer.

"...what mutant worm?"

…

For a company specialized in biology and the like they do shit work,  I thought looking at my back and arms with exposed muscles and skin badly in need of lotion.  Jill was currently moving the tracks around. It involved a lot of dial turning and what looked like puzzle solving skills. Huh wonder why the thought of puzzles makes me angry.

"And got it. Just call me Jill the Train Master," she said with a smile as the monitor lit up green. 

"Woo-woo," I said with a finger twirl by the door leaning against the wall. It still felt like ants were under my skin but they were moving deeper and slower. It was honestly a lot worse. Hopefully it will all be worth it. Another worrying thing was the lack of undead we had seen coming back, there were massive holes leading to the sewers in their place. Something is eating them I think. That's concerning. For some reason this made me hungry as I used my tentacle to grab a nearby box of donuts and scarfed them down. Handing a sprinkled one over to her as she nodded thankfully.

"Carlos I have finished inputting the subway route,” she informed him over the radio. My mouth full of glazed goodness. I had to tilt my head back a little so the food didn't fall out. Damn lack of lips.

"Jill you are amazing. Tough as nails too. Hurry up back to the station. We will make sure the train is up and ready." Carlos responded back. Jill rolled her eyes slightly at his flirting.

"I not amazing?" I asked her as we moved out. Tossing the box away as we did. She gave a small grin.

"No, you are. I just think you have a few parts missing for him to say so. Or maybe an extra part would be more accurate. " She commented, blowing the head off a nearby zombie with her Glock as we exited the building. ….Huh?  

We moved quickly through the building and streets. Every once in a while I felt a small tremor beneath my feet. That's not good. I started to hurry up my pace with Jill right behind me seeing my urgency and feeling the tremors too. It happened just as we made it back to the plaza.

"Just a little and we have made  it…..why would I say that out loud?" Jill asked herself with a face smack. All of a sudden the ground rumbled like an earthquake was going off. Feeling the chill on my neck I grabbed Jill and using everything I had, jumped to the stairs, just as the day got a lot worse.

Out from the ground a massive worm mutant beast came towering above us, easily towering over me and Jill.  Holy crap this thing could eat a train. Whipping it head to us it roared so loud I thought it would destroy every bit of glass nearby. Four massive mandibles and what seemed like an endless row of teeths surrounded by large unblinking eyes made up it's head and mouth. All along it's body odd bumps stood out.I gave Jill a quick deadpan look as we drew our guns.

"Blame you."

Chapter Text

Maybe a giant mutant bird will show up and eat the giant mutant worm, I thought as Jill and I fired at the hell worm. But our weapons didn't seem to bother it too much as it just stood there and took the barrage with no sign of damage. That is until Jill took a breath and fired off a single shot destroying one of its eyes. Rearing back it let out a yell of pain

"Worm's eye,” I rasped, watching it flail around in pain. Taking this chance, we immediately began to move back, getting to higher ground. 

"We gotta kill this thing before we can get back to the subway," Jill shouted as we made it back to the top of the stairs. Looking back, we saw the worm right on our heel, eyes full of hate as it opened its jaws wide. Grabbing Jill, I dashed to the left as she tossed a grenade in the air in front of it. Unable to stop in time, it crashed right into a toy shop, destroying the front of the building. As it tried to free itself, the grenade exploded inside it. The blast opened a large hole on its lower body, blood and other juices pouring out of the wound. Ignoring the seemingly fatal injury, it let out a roar as it tore free from the building. Moving in front of Jill to block harmful shards, I got an idea as I spied the massive model head on the structure above it. Drawing my launcher, I aimed the laser at the base of the stand.

"Nem, duck!" Jill warned, hitting the ground as the beast tail missed her but caught me full in the chest. Dropping the launcher as I went flying into a car blocking the end of the street, creating a me-sized hole as it caved in. Whelp, it was nice having ribs for a while. I thought in dark humor as I fell forward on my hands and knees. Jill was firing on the creature aiming for its eyes with the skill of an expert marksman, but the beast folded in its mandibles protecting them. Well, some of them. She still managed to put a few out, causing the creature pain with each one. 

"Come on, fish food!" she shouted, tossing a flashbang at the creature blinding it before reloading. Taking a knee, she picked up my launcher, and bracing herself on one knee, aimed and fired at the massive mascot head on top of the building. I watched as it looked up, flexed its mandibles wide and caught the enormous head. Its body strained under the massive weight.

Rushing to my feet, I picked up a nearby gas drum. Ignoring the fire ants marching inside me, I brought it over my head and hurdled it at the gap it was making with its jaws. 

"Jill!" I shouted out with my raspy voice. As though she was reading my mind, Jill seamlessly transitioned to her shotgun and drawing bead fired on the barrel right as it passed through between the worm and the giant head. It gave the loudest shriek of pain possible as the explosion destroyed every one of its eyes, and more importantly, caused one of its mandibles to be destroyed.

"Heads up," Jill commented dryly, chambering another shell as the mascot head squashed half of the beast with a sickening splat sound. Blood gushing out in pools under it.  Moving up to Jill, I picked up my launcher and quickly reloaded. Two shots left. I can't tell if I am doing good on ammo or not.  I thought as I looked down at my shotgun. I had been firing it quite a bit and honestly had no idea how much ammo was left. Just then, the radio sparked on.

"Hey, Supercop you there? Want to warn you we have heard something big in the area. So, you and Nem be on the lookout," Carlos warned us over the radio. I gave the radio a long look before holding out my hand. Jill just casually handed it over. Holding it up to my mouth, I said two simple words.

"Shit timing," I said, making my voice as gravelly as possible. I handed it back to Jill with a nod of thanks.

"We took care of it, Carlos. It was just a giant worm.We are on our way back now," she told him. 

"...and that is normal for you?" He asked. I could hear the confused expression in his voice.

"Still better than the giant spider or zombie shark I dealt with a while back.' She said with a shrug. I gave her a strange look hearing this. Zombie what now? 'Anyway we will be there soon.And with that, we continued on our way.

"Head's up?" I asked as we moved around the worm.

"And ‘worm's eye’ was so much better?" she responded, raising an eyebrow.

“..fair." I admitted as we moved. But as we are working away, it gave one last death spasm and slammed its tail down on the street in front of us. Destroying the road and sending us falling to the sewer below. I quickly grabbed Jill and put myself between her and whatever we would hit when we landed. 

…

Back in the garage, the smell of burnt flesh and smoke filled the air. The fire that had engulfed Mr. H had died down leaving it's charred husk behind. Just then, a crack appeared on its chest and got bigger and bigger until it exploded outwards. 

In the dark and blackened remains of the garage, Mr. H wiggled out of his former body. His new form was a big slimy thing that resembled a slug mixed with a snake. Large pointed teeth like an angler-fish rested under his madness filled eyes. He slowly but surely wiggled it ways through the destroyed shutters of the garage. Hearing something, he quickly moved behind a newby dumpster and waited.

A Krawler bug, a survivor of Jill and Nem’s excursion, limped its way by. It was fueled by a basic instinct to remake the nest and create more of its kind. It never got the chance before Mr. H pounced. Wrapping his long ghostly white body around it and chomping down on it. He giggled a peal of insane laughter as he ate the Krawler alive, it screeched the entire time.

He ate and ate until there was nothing left but a few pieces of the carapace.  It gave a victory cry as four spider legs burst from its body. Eat. Grow. Adapt. Improve. He had planned, it was simple. Eat and improve until it was strong enough, and then it would hunt down the Hated One. As it crawled up the side of the building, it's laugh resounded through the darkness, promising future cruelty and constant hunger.

…

How many days had I been in solitary this time? There were no windows, no clocks, just the odd bowl of soup, and my imagination in this round bricked room.  

"Thirty-five, thirty-six," I counted off sit-ups as I tried to pass the time. Thankfully there was enough room in the room for me to lay down. Just then, a slot opened in the door.

"You're not fooling anyone, you know," a girl's voice said for the slot. Or is this case a bitch on the making.

"Go away, Alex," I said, finishing up the reps as I stretched out my eight-year-old body. I was used to her constant tormenting, and honestly, I didn't care. As long as it was focused on me, it was fine. 

"You can pretend and fake it as long as you want. Watching you suffer is always entertaining. But Father knows you’re just covering for that stray you brought with you from that hole he found you both in. Not that it does much good." She said, smiling through the slot. Hearing this, I stopped my workout and walked next to the door.

"What are you saying, Alex?"  In answer, all she did was stare before laughing loudly.

"Hahahahaha. You mean he doesn't tell you? Must be that brotherly love.” Alex laughed, closing the slot. “Let's just say you're not the only usual tenet on this level." With that, she walked away, laughing. I banged on the door as hard I could with my fist as I shouted at her.

"Come back here, Alex!! What did you mean?!" I shouted at the door. Hearing some steps, I thought it was her, but as the slot opened, all I got was a face full of...

Sewer water. Gasping at the horrid taste in my mouth, I raised my head and hacked out the vile liquid— more memories and yet no answers. Lifting my head higher, I saw Jill lying on my chest, groaning slightly. She had a bruise on her forehead from the fall. Placing my arms around her, I sat up as gently as possible, keeping her stable as I rose to my feet. 

Where are we? I wondered as I looked around. We must have floated quite a bit from where we fell. There was no sign of the hole we fell through. But thankfully, there weren't any undead or mutants around.  Spotting an open hatch a few feet above, I maneuvered Jill into a one-arm cradle and turned my other into a claw. Slowly but surely, I made my way up the wall.

Giving a little hop, I made it over the railing, and landing, crouch- walked through the door, closing it behind me. I quickly moved down the tunnel to  a nearby door and walked inside. Finding myself in an office room, I cleaned off a nearby table and gently put Jill on it after taking off her shotgun and leaning it against the table. I then went to work searching the room for any water. With what's running around topside, don't even want to think about what is down here.

Okay, two liters of water, first aid spray, first-aid kit, and some green herbs. I hope I have done this before. Taking a shirt from a locker, I ripped a long strip off it before wetting it and gently wiping off Jill's face.  I also wiped off her arms, noticing all the small scrapes and cuts on her body. She is a lot tougher than me, I thought, as I covered her arms and face with the first aid spray.  Then I sprinkled some green herb over her arms and forehead before giving her another pass with the spray and wrapping them with bandages.

Gently raising her head, I poured a small stream of water over her mouth mixed with the herb. I tried some myself, and it wasn't that bad. Setting my launcher to the side and taking off my black suit top, I gave it a quick shake before placing over Jill. Both for protection and warmth. It would help her more than the wife-beater she was wearing.  Then sitting in front of the other door, I waited for her to wake up, chugging a liter of water as I did. You never notice how useful lips are till you don't have them. I thought as I had to tilt my head back to hold the water.

As I sat there, I checked my guns for any blockage or damage. The last thing I need is a blocked barrel exploding in my face. Life has been doing enough of that tonight. As I was inspecting the shotgun barrels, I heard a groan from Jill as she raised herself.

"Did we get the number of that truck? I feel like a truck hit me," she asked, grabbing a thing of water next to her and gargling before swallowing the herb infused water.

"Life," I answered in a bad humor, standing up and walking over. I held up a few fingers in front of her. "How many?"

“Two fingers and thumb,” she answered, swinging her legs over the table edge. Jill took a quick look over her wrapped up arms and felt the one around her forehead. “Anything broke?"

"Tell me,” I answered her holding my hand up to refuse her returning my damaged suit top. “You wear," I told her. She gave me a weird look as she held up the suit. Even damaged, it was large enough to cover her entire upper body.

"Bud, I am not a size Tyrant. And besides, what about you?" she asked, knowing the suit was made of sturdy material. The number of undead with broken teeth verified that.

"Heal..ing factor," I explained, turning my finger into a claw and making a small cut on my hand. Moving it so she can see Jill watched at the small wound closed almost instantly. She was quiet for a few minutes before I had an idea. Walking over to the whiteboard, I wrote out the following.

"Plus, I hate black, and I don't want to be called a gimp. Whatever that is." Jill gave a small snort before giving the coat another look.

"Got any duct tape?" She asked, hopping off the chair and taking off her guns rigs and tactical gear.

…

Carlos was currently finishing up maintenance on the subway engine as Tyrell and Nicholai came down the stairs. Nicholas quickly went inside the train while Tyrell walked over to his friend.

"How's the train coming along?" Tyrell asked, squatting down by the edge of the platform. Carlos gave a bolt one last turn before closing the metal pane satisfied. 

"Well, after doing one last check on the control board and compartments, we should be good,” he said, clapping his hands together. Turning to his friend, he graciously accepted his hand up. “You didn’t see Jill or Nem on your way down, did you?"

"Jill being that cop you have a crush on and Nem being the guy who looks like he came out of a Japanese horror game? Nope,” he answered, honestly. “But they have survived this far, I am willing to bet they are going to be here any minute," Tyrell said, patting his friend on the back as he went inside to report to the Captain. Carlos just gave a small sigh as he tried to radio Jill again.

"Bah. I am surprised she didn't die sooner,” Nicholai said to him from inside the train sharpening a knife idly. “The soft-hearted are the fools who never last long." 

"So we should just be assholes like you?" Carlos spat back. Nicholai just gave a small laugh.

"My friend, learn this now. At the end of the day who would put your money on a fool and a freak or a survivor?" he asked, turning away with a smile and walked away. 

…

Oh wow. Jill Valentine is a woman of hidden talents. Nem looked at the modified coat she made of his suit top. Using the tape and some torn bits she had, it fit pretty well over her body extending a bit past her waist. The arm sleeves were practically covered with tape as she used most of them to fit. She had him use his claws to cut some of the sleeves off though and she taped them to the bottom of her jeans like leg warmers. 

"So how do I look?" she asked slinging her shotgun on her back after making sure the gun barrels were clean.

"Looks way better on you,” he replied, writing on the whiteboard before grabbing his launcher and putting it on his back.

Jill once again amazed how pretty his writing was. Jill grabbed a map of the sewer off a nearby wall, reading it as they made their way further into the sewer. As they walked down the catwalk Jill studied Nem's body. The first thing she noticed was his physique. Like a champion boxer he was all muscles and shoulders. At random parts of his body were surgery marks, exposed muscles, and along his spine were small ridges of bones sticking out. All in all, Jill was once again very happy Nem wasn't her enemy.

As they walked, they passed a window into an office room. Spying a hip pouch on the table Nem slammed his hand through the glass. Shattering it easily and grabbing it handed it to Jill who added it to her belt, happy for more space.

Moving on they came to stop when they heard it. A shrieking sound echoing down the tunnels.

"What the fuck is that?" she asked out loud, drawing her Samurai Edge.

"Alligator?" Nem offered as an answer. Jill just shook her head.

"That's a myth. There aren't any alligators in the sewers,” she told him as they kept going, albeit their senses more open now. Passing a folded up ladder, they found an electronically locked metal door. Nem quickly moved to try and force it open.

"We shouldn't force open doors down here, bud,” Jill said, stopping him. 'Never know when you need a door between you and whatever is chasing you. What about up top?" she asked, taking a nearby paper off the wall as Nem scaled the wall quickly.

"Same door," he said, taking his claws out of the wall and dropping down. 

"Says here we need some kinda battery key. And according to this map, there are some rooms down here," she said, reading the paper and double-checking the map before folding it and putting it back into her new pouch. Hopping the railing they slid down a run-off and landed ankle deep in...stuff they didn't want to think about.

"Oh God,” Jill shivered and untold liquid filled her boots. “I am burning these clothes." 

"Same," the Tyrant agreed as they trudged through the filthy water, Nem in the lead with Jill right behind him. Garbage and discarded objects were lining the walls in piles. Right before they moved down a spiral tunnel, Nem held up his han; eyee narrowed in suspicion.

"What's up?" Jill asked, fishing out her flashlight, Edge at the ready.

"Bad feeling,” he answered, drawing his shotgun, and he made his way forward. They hadn't made it ten feet before some giant white thing came flopping out of a nearby tunnel and opened its mouth impossibly wide. Large toothy flaps unfurled from its mouth. Catching Nem, it tried to eat him.

Chapter Text

I freaking knew it, I thought as I unloaded my shotgun in its open mouth. Every shot sent it reeling back, it’s pus-socket-riddled, pale skin torn to bits with every volley. Jill moved right next to me and started firing as well. We didn't stop till there wasn't a twitch left in its body. Then, moving forward, I stomped down on where I assumed its brain was and twisted my foot.

"Eat that," I growled at the carcass. Turning to walk back, I see Jill pitch a grenade over my shoulder. Turning around, I watched it go down the maw of another creature that had snuck up, not even a few feet behind me. The grenade then exploded, showering me in monster guts and other unmentionable things. Oh god damnit more gross in my mouth! I thought gagging as I wiped the bits of the intestine, skins, and nasty off my body. I would give anything for a shower.

"You’re welcome?" Jill asked with a sickly grimace seeing the result of her saving me. Thinking up a bad idea, I wiped off some of the gunk with one finger and held it under her nose. She just gagged a little and slapped my hand away. I gave a small avalanche chuckle at this while she gave me one booted kick to the shin.

"Asshole,” she threw as a parting comment before continuing on.

"Thank you," I told her, following close behind, extra cautious now. 

"So what the fuck was that thing anyway?" she asked as we came to the tunnel an elevated  door off to our right. I just shrugged my shoulders in response as she climbed the ladder and I gave a short jump and landed next to her.

"Mutant frogs?" I suggested as she opened the door slowly checking between the gaps. It looked like a storage room. As we entered, I saw something peculiar at the end of the room. The hell is this doing down here? I wasn't the only one curious as Jill rushed to the grenade launcher and started cuddling it close.

"Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Where have you been all night?"  she asked it, reading the piece of paper next to it, alongside some colored ammo for it. Going to give her some space. I checked the counter and picked up some notes. After a few moments, I understood one significant thing. Why is everyone who works for Umbrella either an asshole or insane? Or both?! I just gave a small sigh and I tapped Jill on the shoulder as she was securing the grenade launcher to her tactical belt, so it hung within easy reach in her hip, while acquiring a bandolier off explosive and flame rounds across her chest.

"Gamma Hunter," I told her, handing over the papers. After a few seconds, she folded up the paper and placed it in her hip pouch.

"You know, smart people don't leave their creations' weaknesses on paper lying around. Nor do they end up in the sewers.” After saying this, she gave a small pause. “...Or leave the grenade launcher lying around,” she finished, shouldering her new toy with a wide smile. “Now come on, let's find that battery pack."

…

Mr. Y was not in a good mood. This could be seen by the many now empty seats in front of the monitors and computers. They had lost the signal of the Nemesis' guns a little while ago and were struggling to find his exact location. The sewers were not the right answer; Mr. Y had informed one of the techs before giving their brain some air. Instead of decreasing productivity, there was a boost. Fear was once again a proven motivator. He was sitting on his chair, wiping off the bloody gun barrel with a Lysol wipe, when he felt his phone start to buzz.

Flipping open his phone and typing in a 15 digit code saw it was a file from one of his well-paid assistants in the European Branch. He had messaged him on his secure line to find the owner of the body parts that made their way is inside his Nemesis. Knowing Umbrella, they would never throw away any bio-matter that seemed usable.  Excellent. Some answers. Let's see what secrets you're keeping, Wesker.

And so Mr. Y began to read. As he read, he was very thankful for the darkened visor on his lense. For the more he read, the more confusion and disbelief showed on his face. Until finally, he was just dumbstruck.

What the fuck is this?! How the hell did this guy live so long?! Ebola, Influenza, and freaking Rabies?! And the sheer number of parasites he had living in his body?! Thirty-two parasites and over half of them are fatal! The other half should have him crippled and in constant pain. And the fact he should have left a trail of death everywhere he went! He quickly sent a reply to double-check these reports. He didn't have to wait before he got an answer and another piece of the info.

"Have triple checked the reports. And what's more, all the parasites and viruses improved and helped his body.  Sir, from these results, I can't honestly say he was still human," his assistant replied. Mr. Y was stunned for a moment, and that rarely happened, but here it was twice in one night. 

He knew that there were people with immunity to viruses. Albert Wesker was one such individual with his genetic ability to fight all viruses. And some have resistance to specific strains such as Sergei Vladimir. But this? This was absurd. It was like...it was like...

He makes all foreign bodies fall into a benign state? But why the hell would you put this person in a weapon? What the hell is the end goal here? He thought to himself more confused than before.

"I am now in a shooting mood,” he said out loud to the room, causing everyone around him to go still in fear. “Does anyone have any news?" 

"Mr. H isn't dead,” a tech said, bringing a live video of Mr. H at the ruined base of the substation. Mr. Y stood up and crossed the room, quickly studying the monitor.

"Is it eating a Licker?” he asked as he watched Mr. H devouring the blood-covered mutation. He watched as clawed arms similar to the Lickers sprouted from Mr. H's body, and a long sharp tongue rolled out of his mouth. And yet another unknown. “This is not something a Tyrant should be capable of. Even a hybrid. Who was in charge of Mr. H's project?"

A few moments later, he had an answer.

"A former bio-researcher by the name of Osmund Saddler, sir."

…

Mr. H was having a beautiful banquet as it feasted on its second Licker in the past hour. Unfortunately, he  would have to move hunting grounds soon as this one was running dry of both undead and humans. 

More power. More food! Kill Hated one! He thought as he scrambled along the alley walls near the substation. He was looking for more prey, and then, using its newly restored stalk-like eyes spotted two people walking down a nearby street. A man in a jumpsuit carrying an assault rifle while a woman in jeans and a plaid shirt around the same age walked behind him.

"Come on, honey. Just a bit further to the subway, and then it's home free,” he assured her. Right then, a long barbed tongue pierced her shoulder and dragged her into the alley, screaming the whole time. Mr. H flung her hard against the wall below him and withdrew his tongue, letting her fall. The impact with the ground broke her legs.

Now the other.  

"ANGELA!!!" The man shouted, rushing into the alley—this confused Mr. H. Whenever it grabbed a straggler the rest would run far away, giving it the thrill of hunting them down. Strange. Like Hated One. Protect. Of course, this didn't stop Mr. H from pouncing on the man and viciously stabbed him over and over with its new claws.

He stabbed and stabbed, giggling all the while. Just then, Mr. H felt something slam into the back of its head. Twisting its head around, it saw the female from earlier slamming a piece of pipe weakly against him crying all the while.

"Get away! Leave him alone!"  Mr. H casually swung it's claw around and slit her throat.  As she fell, he watched as the man crawled over to the woman's fallen body. An indescribable look of pure dread and horror on his face as he desperately tried to make it to her side. So much fear. Much despair. Much sweet! Much happy! Mr. H thought to itself as an idea raced across it's spine like lightning. A wickedly awful idea that made him laugh louder and more wicked than ever before. It smiled as it dragged the woman's corpse away. The man slowly drowned in his blood behind it.

…

Alex Wesker had a cat's grin on her face as she dialed up a certain number on her phone. One that only she and her father had. It only rang once before a stone-cold voice answered.

"What do you want, Alex?" the voice asked, tone flat.

"Tsk, tsk, dear Albert. This is how you talk to family?" she asked, leaning back in her chair, pouring herself a glass of wine as she watched various live feeds from cameras in Raccoon City.

"This is how I talk to interruptions. Which you are currently being. Now, what do you want, Alex?" he responded, a small tinge of annoyance in his voice. 

"He didn't die," she said, merely taking a sip of the thousand-dollar vintage.

"Alex, I don't have time for these games," Albert responded on the verge of hanging up. She just gave a small laugh as she sent a specific surgery video to his computer, knowing he was never far from one. She heard a slight clicking of the keyboards before silence.

"...no," Albert whispered, slightly losing control for the briefest of moments.

"Oh, yes. He played us all for fools with that little explosion. But then no one expected him to cut his own foot off to fool us,” she responded, watching with sparkling eyes as a group of undead tore into a civilian. Fear is always such a treat to watch.

"Why did you put him in the Nemesis?" he asked, rage lacing his voice. Hearing this, Alex gave a small laugh.

"Oh, brother, I didn't. Or at least it wasn't my idea,” she said, letting him come to the answer himself. Just then she heard a crunching sound and the line went dead. Oh dear brother, nothing gets under your skin quite like he does. No wonder that Chris fellow dances on your nerves. They are very similar in certain regards, Alex thought with a smile as she drank more of the wine.

…

Fuck the sewers, Nem thought to himself as he followed Jill up the ladder, very happy to finally be out of this damned maze of pipes. The worst part though besides the G Hunters was that freaky love letter that scientist wrote to them. Jesus Christ, we both nearly gagged reading it. All that made it feel like we had been down there for hours! But according to Jill's watch, it had only been thirty minutes. Across from them was a building in mid-construction while suspiciously empty of the undead.

"Okay, I think I know this street. We just have to make it through.." Just then, Nem felt an all too familiar tingle go down his spine, and he desperately tried to grab Jill a few feet away. He didn't make it even using his tentacle, before a slimy web wrapped around her chest and yanked her skyward. Mr. H was cackling as he crawled up the side of the building to the roof and dragged Jill up with him.

"JILL!!" Nem roared in anger dashing for the building entrance. Crashing through the doors a pair of Lickers dropped from the ceiling latching and clawing at Nem, who tried to shake them off. His inhuman form slamming them into walls and beams with enough force to dent the building. Hold on, Jill. H e managed to grab the Lickers and slam them into the ground, cracking it.

Meanwhile, on the roof, Mr. H had just managed to get to the ceiling as he pulled on the webbing, prepared to gut Jill, already giggling at the thought of what Nem would look like upon seeing her mutilated body. However, it made one mistake. It was messing with Jill Valentine .  

Giving the web one final yank, Mr. H brought down its bloody claws on… nothing. Confused, it studied the webbing and found it had been cut. Moving to the edge of the building, it looked over and then it tasted metal and pain as Jill fired her Glock into its open mouth. The bullet tore a hole through its soft cheeks. As it backed away instinctively from the pain, Jill hauled herself over the edge. She was angry, she was tired, and she had a grenade launcher... a bad combination for Mr. H.

"Get the message, asshole!" she shouted, firing an explosive round into the monster's chest, sending it flying back.  It had grown an extra layer of bone over its organs but the round still did a lot of damage destroying the protective layer and muscle. As she fired another round, Mr. H jumped back and landed on a green crate, the round exploding harmlessly below it. Giving a giggling shriek it swung its arms against a wooden crate sending large wood fragments at Jill. Moving behind a large pile of wood, she quickly changed out her grenade launcher for the shotgun. As she did she noticed an unusually large piece of wood stuck on Nem's coat right over her heart. It had been unable to get through the tough material. Yeah, Nem is never getting this back now, s he thought with a grin while cooking a flashbang.

Speaking of Nem, he was currently using a gas drum to crush a Licker skull. Gas poured out and mixed with it dark blood.  Turning around and grabbing the last one by the throat, ignoring the clawing at his chest, he slammed it against a nearby wall, splattering the wall with brain matter. Moving at high speed, he made a beeline for the roof. Ignoring the stairs in favor of using his claws to jump his way to the top, he was scaling the walls with incredible speed when he smelled smoke. Looking down, and seeing a fire roaring down on the base floor, Nem had one thought. This city has terrible luck with burning buildings. Nem increased his speed, practically vanishing from wall to wall.

Jill was always moving and shooting on the rooftop, still trying to stay one step ahead as she used everything she had to kill Mr. H, and this was showing as her shotgun clicked empty. 

"Shit!" She switched to her handgun and fired at a nearby generator, causing it to explode in electricity stunning the Tyrant hybrid. Moving back, she kept firing her Samurai making sure they were all headshots. The creature would make a swipe with a claw or try and stab her with its tongue, but the coat would always stop it short of reaching her skin. It still hurt like a hit from a baseball bat, though.

Until finally, one solid hit knocked her to the ground. Grabbing her grenade launcher, she aimed at the creature only to hear a click. Goddamn misfire! Seeing an opening, Mr. H rushed her, claws at the ready. Just then, a familiar claw burst through the floor and stabbed deep into its abdomen. 

Gotcha bitch! Nem thought with a savage grin as, bracing himself, he yanked down with all his strength. He slammed the freak hard against the ceiling, causing it to crack the thin roofing platform.  And with a bellow pulled Mr. H through the floor and down to the fire below.

"Cool off,” he growled at Mr. H before tossing him down to the burning floor, firing down at him with the shotgun all the while. He didn't stop firing till the shrieking stopped.  Giving a small grunt, Nem quickly climbed through the holes. Jill reloaded all her guns. She looked up and just gave Nem an odd look.

"Toss it into a burning building, and you say 'Cool off.'" Nem had the good taste not to look her in the eyes. It sounded cool at the time. But before they could continue, explosions rocked the building. Plume of fire erupted behind them.

"Now would be an excellent time for you to reveal the hidden power to fly," Jill advised Nem as they raced for the edge.

It really would.

Chapter Text

Racing to the edge, I held out one hand for Jill, who grabbed it immediately—holding her close as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I jumped over the side of the building and aimed for a garbage pile in the corner turning in midair as I did.  It is a lovely night. I was trying to stay positive as I watched the stars above as gravity made me her bitch.

We landed with a crash as I felt a wooden board enter the low of my back. Blood coughed into my mouth from the entry. Giving a small groan of pain, I looked at Jill with a searching eye.

"Alright?" I asked as she sat up on my chest, casting a glance at the burning building behind her.

"Yeah. You're never getting this coat back by the way,” she said, groaning slightly as she got off me and ingested some powdered green herb from her baggie. “What about you?"

"Got wood," I answered honestly, sitting up as Jill went wide-eyed.

"You've got what….ohhhh,” she finished seeing the piece of two-by-four lodged in my lower back. “You meant actual wood and not.." she blushed slightly, seeing my confused expression before shaking her head quickly.

'You know what, nevermind,” she said, reaching for the massive splinter.  ...did she hit her head? She yanked the board out, making me wince slightly. Yeah, diluted sense of pain for the win. After tossing the offending board aside, her radio crackled alive.

"Jill come in, I repeat come in. Are you there?" Carlos asked, panicking slightly over the channel.

"Carlos yeah, Jill and Nem here. We are fine,” she answered. “Had to deal with a giant worm, some giant mutant frog things, Mr. Personality and a burning building. But we are on our way."

"....Supercop, it has only been a little over an hour,” se said back, stunned slightly. Seriously? Jesus Christ, it has felt longer.

"We are very… active?" Jill responded with a shrug. “Anyway, we will be there shortly. Just hold that train."

"I'll save you the first-class seat," Carlos said back with a chuckle. Jill replaced her radio and looked at my newly healed wound with a nod.

"All right big guy, all closed up. Let's get the hell out of here,” she said, patting my back as I nodded. Leaving the work site, I kept an eye on the burning building. The tingle in my spine never quit.

…

Albert Wesker was in a foul mood. The kind of lousy mood that usually ended with him ripping someone's spine out. Not only was Chris Redfield somehow staying off the radar, but he was also easily avoiding all branches of Umbrella around Europe. And now this Raccoon City fiasco. Of course, Albert was mildly thankful for it. It presented an opportunity for him and his people to get certain assets without worry.

Of course, according to my mole in the government, there won't be a Raccoon City by the end of the night. And with any luck, he will burn with it, he thought his eyes glowing red with fury behind his sunglasses. Bringing up the video again, Albert examined his once step-brother. He was always a tall bastard with little scars decorating his body. Some of which Albert gave him personally during combat training. 

Watching them remove his eyeball, Albert silently wished he would scream or cry, but no. The bastard would never give them the satisfaction of that. If there's one thing Albert would freely admit, Alphase was a tough bastard. He only groaned when they cut his heart out, and when dying, he smiled.

"Even in death, you infuriate me. Even after death, you haunt me. The future does not need two gods. The old fool sees you as the future.” As Albert said this, a small chuckle passed his lips. “Well, humanity's future is twisted, so maybe he might be onto something." 

…. He needed to be sure, though. Albert discreetly hacked into the Raccoon City lab compound, and he didn't want to leave a trail. Well, not one that led back to him as he left a trail to an individual supervisor. Let's see, it needs to be something with a bit of a punch to it. As he looked through the archives, Albert paused over one as a small smirk appeared on his face.

"Tyrant, R,” he typed in a straightforward command. Kill Nemesis. Upload time two hours. Albert sat back in his chair, bringing up a live feed of any camera he could find.

…

"Oh, thank God, Kendo's," Jill said with a sigh of relief as we made our way down the street. I was regulated to undead clean up as she was running low on ammo. Let not think about how few rounds I have left. Also, the fact the itching under my skin has stopped. Or the fact this isn't even my final form. Or that the freak probably isn't dead. Or… let's stop thinking now, please.

"Kendo's?" I asked as we stopped in front of the store. Behind us, the street was gone. It was just gone—sewer tunnels and construction material ran along the bottom of the drop a good twenty feet down.

"He and his brother, Joseph, are the top gunsmiths in the world. Robert designed our S.T.A.R.S Samurai Edge, other custom guns, and this grenade launcher,” she said, holding it up for me to see. “Hang out here for a bit. I gotta stock up; it looks a bit too cluttered in there for you." Giving her a nod, I moved to stand by the fence while she went inside. Closing my eye, I focused my hearing, and for what felt like the first time in my life caught my breath. Wonder why I want a cigar?

…

Jill moved through the ransacked gun shop. Thankfully she found a box of shotgun shells and a few boxes of nine-millimeter ammo. Let's see... Kendo kept some grenades behind the counter, I think.  Samurai at the ready, she made her way to the back.

"Don't move!” Kendo shouted, moving around the corner shotgun at the ready. “Oh shit, Jill." He lowered the gun with a sigh.

"Kendo," Jill said, relieved at his presence. 

"Glad to see you, Jill,” he said, eyes flashing to the door in the back. “Things have been weird tonight."  Jill gave a nod of understanding. You have no idea Kendo.

"Hey listen, we got the subway going and are evacuating survivors. You in?” she asked him. Kendo just stared at the back door quietly as the sound of coughing came from behind it. “You okay?" she questioned, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah. No, don't worry about me, Jill. I got my way out,” he said, giving an odd smile as he made his way to the door. “I made other arrangements. I'll be okay."

"You better, you're the best gunsmith in town,” she said, looking at his retreating figure that summed small now. “Hey, Kendo?" Pausing for a moment, he turned back and looked at Jill. 

"Yeah, Jill?"

Where's Emma? She wanted to ask but seeing the hurt in his eyes she knew the answer. In these moments she was glad Nem was outside. Instead she simply asked.

"You got any guns for plus-size hands?" 

…

"Heads up, cowboy," Jill called to me, tossing a gun belt at me as she exited the building. Surprised, I caught the belt and inspected it as I held it up to the light. ...I now know what love is as I thought as I took the beautiful lever-action pistol out of the holster.

"Mare's Leg .44 lever action pistol. Double- action with eight-shot rounds. Extra-wide lever for more comfortable one-handed chambering. Max range of 250 yards with enough stopping power to go through three inches of metal,” Jill explained with a smile as I held the weapon on my left. “On the belt is forty extra rounds. Thoughts?"  I tried my best to make a non-terrifying smile as I wrapped the belt around my waist above my shotgun belt. Position the holster, so it rested in front of me with the handle pointed towards my left.

"Love it," I said to her as I did a quick draw and fired on a zombie rounding the corner of the alleyway. The power of the bullet blew it's entire head off. Twirling the gun in my hand and cranking the lever, I holster my weapon as quickly as I drew it.

"Now all we need is a hat and poncho, and we can call you Clint,” Jill said with a grin as she locked the gate. “Come on, Sheriff—time to blow up Dodge." Tipping a non-existent hat, I followed into her another alley.

…

Deep in the sewers near where Jill had fought Mr. H, it was currently moving slowly through the garbage-filled waters. It hides healing from the burns, and poisonous drool dripping from its mouth and jaw. More. Must eat more. Must be more, it thought to itself before scuttling to the side as it heard something moving closer.

A Hunter Gamma was moving through the sewer using its superior sense of hearing and limited vision to find prey. But all it found was a predator as Mr. H dropped silently behind it, and using its claws, sliced deep into its legs sending the massive body crashing to the ground. Without its legs it was just a largemouth buffet, one which tore into mad with glee.

Each bite brought a painful shriek from the Hunter and a giggle from Mr. H as it ate and ate. The more it ate, the more it's body expanded and it's limbs thickened. It didn't stop eating until it's body and limbs were easily three times bigger than before. A body like that of a Gamma Hunter now rested between its head and neck while a faint line could be seen running along its now bulbous chest.

As it moved down the sewer, it took a minute and sniffed. Find food, it thought, walking down the tunnel quickly, only to stop hearing something moving in a tube to the left of it. Something huge.

Not food. Mr. H categorized as it moved further down the sewer. 

…

"No talking," I told Jil as they looked up at the dead mutant worm corpse. It took a minute, but we finally found their way back. She just gave me a small side look.

"I have learned my lesson,” she said, moving up the destroyed staircase carefully. “No jinx nickname for me."  Walking around the corpse, I couldn't help but notice everything was on fire. Where the hell is all this fire coming from anyway? Oh right, the two buildings that caught on fire, I remembered with a slight grimace. As we moved to the gate, the worm's body twitched.

We both didn't hesitate to draw our shotguns and fire at the seemingly dead body. After a full minute of firing, there was now a small hole in the corpse. I glanced at Jill as we holstered out guns.

"What? I haven't said anything,” she said just as a swarm of mini worm mutants burst out from the corpse. “THAT'S SOME BULLSHIT!" Jill shouted, drawing her grenade launcher and firing a fire round into the swarm before kicking the gate open and making a run for it. I was right behind her shotgun, peppering the multitude of worms.

"Carlos, we are on our way, but we have hostile in-bound!” she radioed as we rounded the corner. 

"Shit! How many?" he asked over the radio.

"Lots," I answered, watching them go through a corpse in seconds. There were so many, you couldn't even see the ground. Let's not think about how many of these things are in the city right now.

"On my way!" Jill tossed a grenade behind us as we rounded another corner. I felt the explosion on my back and heard the angry hissing behind us. Up ahead, Carlos was waving at us from a gas station. Seeing the swarm behind us, he did something brilliant and very dumb at the same time. 

Using a knife, he cut the hose off every gas pump there spreading the fluid everywhere. 

"Hurry up!" He shouted, assault rifle at the ready before falling back. Sheathing my shotgun, I cranked up my speed, scooped up Jill, and hauled tail. Passing the gas station, Jill opened fire with an explosive round as I slid into the subway terminal. Carlos slammed the gate shut behind us as an explosion caved in the door. I will admit the death shrieks for the worms were music to my ears.

"Come one, let's get out of here,” Carlos said, helping Jill up to her feet.  Or was about to before he saw my face and paused, his eyes going wide with fear. He hadn't seen it without the bandanna.

"Sorry," I said, placing my hands over my face trying to hide it.  Carlos gave his face a quick slap. ..has everyone hit their head today?

"Shit, no. I'm sorry,” he said, helping Jill to her feet. And then turning to offer me a hand with a smile. “You’re  not the monster here." Oh damn, I feel so sorry about choking him now.  Waving his hand away, I got to my feet and stuck out my hand. He looks confused before shaking. 

"Now, let's get you two out of here,” he said with a smile leading us to the train. As we walked, Jill spoke up.

"Carlos, I know I should have said this sooner but. Thank you for helping us,” she said, smiling at him. Oh dear, is he blushing?

"Oh, um. No problem," Carlos replied, scratching his head as I pulled up the wire high so we could move down. “Besides, you and Nem saved us first by doing all this so we can get everyone out."

"That's the important thing,” Jill said as I nodded with her. “What about you?" 

"Staying here got some new orders, it seems."  he said, taking point. Wonder what they are? 

Finally, we arrived at the train! Home free baby! Their Captain was up about going over some plans with a soldier I hadn't met before. 

"Good work. Your reputation is well deserved and thanks to you as well, Nem. Now get inside, the subway is about to leave. And Nem?" He called to me as I moved towards the train.

"Yes?' I asked, noticing how the other soldier went pale hearing my voice and seeing my face. I gotta find another mask.

"I managed to get a secure line to an old friend of mine. He is aware of your situation and mobilizing a UN relief team to meet you and the other survivors," Mikhail said, giving me a grin.

'Thank you," I said, giving a small bow.

"No, thank you. Now, Tyrell and Carlos, your orders are to find Dr. Bar, his vaccine research could be vital to saving this city,” he told his men. Vaccine research? Jill paused at the door, hearing this.

"This isn't the last train out, is it?" she asked, stopping at the door.  

"Don't worry. There is another team after this one. I am not going to die and leave you in a cruel, cold, Carlos-less world,” he assured her. 

"Okay." Jill nearly snorted as she walked into the train while I gave him a thumbs-up. Keep trying, buddy.

"Oh how cute, the freak gave you his jacket. What's next, is he going to give you his class ring?" Nicholas mocked sitting down in the compartment. 

"Oh yeah you survived," Jill said sarcastically as she unslung her shotgun and sat across from him. I just stood there for a minute and watched Tyrell and Carlos prep. I am a dumbass.

"Wait," I called out to them as they were leaving. Surprised, they turned to me while Jill looked up at me. 

"Sorry,” I told Jill as I stepped out of the train. Facing down the two soldiers, I said simply.

"Coming with." 

Chapter Text

Jill did not take my announcement well.

"Like hell you are!" she shouted, standing up and setting her feet as she gave me the 'don't make me kneecap you' stare.

"It is always sad when couples fight," Nicholai mocked with a smarmy smile. Of course, he wasn't smiling when I wrapped my tentacle around him—binding and gagging him, so he would finally shut up and not try to shoot me. I was not in the mood for his lip anymore, and neither was the rest of his team as Mikhail just calmly lit a cigar, ignoring it while Tyrell just whistled while rechecking his gear. Carlos was openly smirking.

"Shut up,” I told the asshole who stopped struggling when he saw my gaze. Turning back to Jill, I just sighed and tried to convey as much feeling as I could in my gaze. The first thing I do is work on my vocal cords, tired of voice tearing after three words. “Have to." We stared at each for a minute, gray eyes locked with my blue one.

"Then, I’m coming too,” she said, grabbing her shotgun and moving to get off the train. I just put my arm between her and the door.

"No.” I quickly held up a hand and pointed at the civilians in the rear car. They were scared, tired, and needed medical attention. They don't need to be around monsters anymore, I realized, looking at myself in the window briefly. “Need you." Jill looked at the civilians for a long time before turning back her expression torn between her duty and friendship. I am such a massive asshole for this, but I need to get her out. Want my...friend to be safe at least. I don't want to lose anymore, I thought to myself, desperately trying to remember my brother's name.

"You're an asshole for this, you know?” Jill asked me as I nodded my head. She just scratched the back of her head in anger as she gave a long sigh of frustration. “Tell me why, though. You don't owe this city anything. Why not get to safety?" I didn't even take a minute to think about this as I pointed at Carlos and the others. Thankfully Nicholai was on the other side

"Good people,” I told her. Making sure my finger wasn't pointed anywhere near Nicholai. “Right thing."

"...the right thing is gonna get you killed one day,” she told me, her voice deadly serious. It might already have. Then Jill did something weird, she reached into her pouch and held out a badge of some kind.

"This is my S.T.A.R.S badge. I keep it with me all time. I want this back,” she said, grabbing my hand and placing the badge there.  “And if you don't personally give this back to me, I will march to hell and drag your sorry burnt ass out and kick it all over the road," Jill told me before doing something I will never forget. She hugged me.

"You're hugging me too tight, Bro!" Alastor whined as I tried to hug the stuffing out of my little bro. I had just gotten done with week-long solitary confinement for coming in last during a mock exam. 

"No hug is ever too tight!" I shouted as I twirled around with him. His groans eventually turned into laughter that I soon followed with my own. I didn't stop until we both fell to the wooden floor in a dizzy spell. We kept laughing for a good while after that.

"Hey, bro?" Alastor asked, looking over at me. 

"Hmm?"

"How come hugs are always nice?" he asked. Geez, my brother, can be slow.

"Because a hug is the ultimate sign of trust between two people. Also,” I said before body-slamming him with a hold and giving him a boogie in his bright red hair, “Because I am the one giving them!"  

"You bully!" he shouted in mock pain as I laughed.

My mouth formed a small smile that I hoped wasn't scary, and I held Jill tight with a one-armed hug. A happy red tear is trickling down my face.

"I promise," I told my friend. I was securing the badge on my Mare Leg's holster. Now all I need is a poncho and a cowboy hat. As I released Nicholai from my tentacle, he fell none too gently to the floor. He was about to stand up and say something, but I just pointed the finger at him. Turning it into a claw, I wagged it at him, causing him to only glare at me before walking to a forward car.

"Later, Jill," I told the fantastic Jill Valentine as I stepped off the train. She gave a small smile back.

"Oh, you better believe later,” Jill responded as she moved to the back of the car. “Okay, people, I am going to need you to move a car forward. Sooner we get you there, sooner this is all over," I overheard as I walked past Mikhail. The old Russian just gave me a quick grin before handing me a cigar.

"The look on his face was amazing,” he said, patting me on the arm as I grinned and placed it in an empty bullet loop. Save for later.  Moving towards Tyrell and Carlos, I gave them a reassuring thumbs-up.

"Ready." 

Tyrell gave Carlos a quick look. 

"He's a good man," Carlos reassured Tyrell as he moved up the stairs. Tyrell gave me a quick look before shrugging.

"Aw, what the hell. Makes a good drinking story,” he reasoned, following his teammate as I covered the rear, giving the train one last parting look as I watched Jill help civilians to a forward car. Then I was moving, once more into the breach. ...Did I quote something? I wondered as the train left the station, and I followed close behind the Umbrella soldiers.

…

What no one noticed was the wall breaking at the opposite side of the tunnel the train left. From it emerged sewer water and insane laughter. Smell Fear.

…

Leon Kennedy had just loaded the last of his boxes in the jeep. His entire life was summed up in five boxes. The second I get settled in Raccoon City, I am finding a hobby...or a plant.  Straight out of the academy, and straight to the City with the weirdest murder cases in the last fifteen years.  He was about to close the back when a small box caught his eye.  Opening it, he gave a little smirk.

"Dad gives the best gifts," Leon said, looking down at the modified .50 Cal Desert Eagle with two spare clips. Taped to the bottom of the lid was a simple phrase. Better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it. Giving a shake of his head, he was about actually to close the lid when he had a strange feeling.

"Good advice, dad," Leon said, taking the Eagle out and placing it in a shoulder holster along with the spare clips. Closing the back, he hummed a little tune as he started the Jeep. Three-quarters of a tank just enough to get me there. Raccoon City, get ready for Leon S. Kennedy.

...  

God, I love my baby! Claire Redfield thought with glee, burning rubber down the dark highway and enjoying every second on her bike until she remembered why she was speeding towards Raccoon City.

Be okay, Chris, s he thought about the worry on her face behind her helmet. Claire had tried for weeks to get in contact with her brother. Weeks of calling his friends, his job, hell she even tried that gun shop Kendo's. But all she got was roundabout answers, or they just hung up—God, that boss of his, what an asshole.

So the second she was done with her semester at college, she took off for Raccoon City with her lucky jacket, motorcycle, Chris's gold lighter, combat knife, and SLS 60 revolver. After breaking up with her current boyfriend, of course. My fifth one this year. Always pretty and usually petty. Revving her engine, she sped up her bike as she checked her gas. Three-quarters left. Better make a stop and call the roommate when I am just outside the city.  And then find my brother and give him a good punch for worrying me.

…

Jill was sitting next to the train door, trying to relax as it drove down the track. Wethersfield out of instinct, she made sure all her guns were loaded and studied the blue grenade mine round with a wry smile. Only Kendo could make such a game-like a weapon workable, she thought, loading the three rounds she had into the launcher. Just then, Nicholai and Mikhail walked into the car from the civilian-loaded one upfront.

"Do you think a pencil pusher like Bard is still alive?" Nicholai asked his Captain as he tried to hide his bruises from the earlier tentacle play. Jill played the smallest violin for him in her heart as she smirked at him.

"There are more concerning thoughts for me at the moment,” he told Nikolai as he sat down, hand resting oddly close to his pistol, a look that did not go unnoticed by Jill as she kept a hand near her gun. “Like how brain dead zombies can plan an ambush or lock doors. Huh, comrade?” Mikhail asked Nikolai, a hard look in his eyes as he eyed his subordinate. Nikolai just smirked as an explosion rocked the rear car. 

Springing to their feet they rushed to back guns drawn and found..horror. Standing on four newly formed muscular legs, each one with a two-taloned foot was Mr. H's new form. It was taller than even Nem, with a massive body like that of a Gamma Hunter attached to it's humanoid chest, a cross like slit running along the front of it with poison dripping from it, each drop burning the car floor. It's Licker arms had swollen as well, looking out of sync on it's small chest.

"Why is the fucker not dead yet?" Jill shouted, firing a pistol shot at it's head. The bullets made its head snap back lightly before it snapped back just as quick giggling as long tongues snaked out and licked the wound with a giggle.

"Jill, fall back and we can detach the cars!" Mikhail ordered unloading his Kalashinokov into the mutant. Rushing to the other end  of the car Jill was just in time to find Nikolai on the other side locking the door and pulling a nearby lever.

"Nikolai what the fuck are you doing?!" she shouted at him as the cars pulled away. He just smirked before answering, holding a pistol on the civilians behind to prevent any would-be heroes.

"Trying to survive and make a little money,” he answered as the lead car pulled away with Jill turning around to help Mikhail. But she was too late as a massive tongue with pincers on it closed around him cutting deep as it dragged him towards Mr. H. Coughing up blood, Mikhail stared unflinching into the giggling mutant's face.

"Laugh at this, fuckface!" he shouted, pressing down on the detonator to the C4 on his hip causing a massive explosion that sent the cars flying as Jill was slammed hard against the side of the car and sinking into darkness. 

…

"So the fact you make so little sound moving scares me immensely," Tyrell told me honestly as we neared the police station where the doctor was. 

"Slasher walk," I answered honestly as we walked by a graveyard. All the graves are fresh and new. Some even had bodies still wrapped up next to them. Tyrell gave me a strange look as he started to unlock the gate.

"....that name works too damn well,” he said, looking at me before getting to work.

"Changing the mildly scary subject. We made it here in pretty good time. The subway should be out of town by now, so the civilians are clear," Carlos spoke up as Tyrell unlocked the gate.

"Along with your hot date?" he teased, pushing it open. Did Jill have a fever?

"She isn't like that, man. She isn't like anyone," Carlos responded with a smile.

"Jill, nice," I agreed, nodding my head as we walked past the graves. I was careful not to step on any graves and say a silent wish for their peaceful slumber... also that they wouldn't raise.

We passed by numerous graves until finally, I came to an open grave with two bodies wrapped up in it. Deserve better, I thought as I got on my hands and knees, using my hands to shovel dirt over them. Carlos and Tyrell both stopped and looked at me. I could tell they wanted me to stop but couldn't deny that the act needed to be done.

"... catch up when you're done, buddy," Carlos said, clapping me on the shoulder. I just nodded my head and went back to work on the grave. I’m not sure how long it took, but I didn't stop until the grave was covered entirely and packed tight.  Then standing up I said a small prayer for them. That's when I felt that damned tingle and heard the gunshot. What now?

Looking up I saw my...for some reason he felt like kin. Entering the gate was a tall pale bald man in a green duster and pants. I knew right away he wasn't human. That much was evident by his massive size, only a bit shorter than me, and his emotionless eyes devoid of life as some weird node stuck out of the side of his face.

A Tyrant like us. The voice in my head explained. Geez, wonder why it's here, I responded sarcastically. Just like with Mr. H, I knew what it was. A flesh machine of war. It would stop at nothing to complete its goal. The means did not matter, only the completion. I drew and fired both my guns as it crossed its arms, charging at me.

Spent rounds fell like rain around me as the bullets lost impact against its thick clothing and barely penetrated its arms. My Mare went empty first, so I quickly holstered it just as the Tyrant got close enough. It let loose a massive right hook. Blocking the blow, I brought up my shotgun and aimed it point-blank at his face. But it just grabbed the barrel and with a mighty squeeze caved in the barrels.

You ass! I thought as I let out an angry shout, slamming my head against his with a sound like a car collision. I don't know if the Tyrant had a brain or what, but the blow stunned it for a moment. Giving a stomp to the side of its leg, there was an audible snap as it bent backward, clearly broken. As Green fell forward, I grabbed the bottom of its coat and yanked it up, trapping its arms with the fabric.

I didn't mean to, but a sharp blade-like bone grew out of my knee tearing through the fabric easily.  Stabbing and hammering away at his chest with each knee-strike. But despite all this, the Tyrant never made a sound. Just giving weak punches with its trapped arms. Until I reared back my knee and gave it everything. The force sent it almost a foot off the ground. Pulling the coat so hard it actually came off, Green went for a little spin.

Jumping up, I gave it a dropkick to the chest that sent it flying, crashing into the iron-wrought gate and caving it in with the impact. Landing on my hands and feet, I rushed forward and reared back, my arm turning it into a claw as I did. I rammed it through it's left side, where it's heart was. My arm pierced clean through its body, the head slumping forward as I removed my arm, leaving a large hole in its chest.

Huh. Guess I am more of a heartbreaker than I thought. I laughed a little at the joke before moving to find that coat reloading my Mare as I did. I was tired of being half-naked as I put my gun back.  The assault rifle fire had stopped a moment after I was done with Green. I didn't hear anyone dying, so that eased my mind.

"Found it." I smirked, picking up the coat and dusting it off. Huh same material as my old one…. and the kind Mr. Ugly used. Wonder what it's for anyway….its to stop mutation, isn't it? 

Just as I had this thought, I heard the groaning sound of bending metal. Turning around, I turned and looked behind me already pawing for my rocket launcher.

The Super Tyrant, I was now going to call it, now easily towered a foot over me. His entire body was now probably three times bigger and was covered in stone-like bumps with claws like a power digger hung on the end of his arms. His heart was now visible through his skin on the other side of his chest. The hole I had made swollen shut by his growth.

Well if that don't beat all. I got backhanded through the gate, a car, and a bus until I crashed into a light pole, causing it to bend over me. The light is flickering above me as I  laid there under the trying to catch the concussion bird circling my head. There was at least one happy thought.

At least Jill is probably enjoying a nice meal right about now.

…

"I AM NOT A MEAL YOU FAT FUCK!" Jill shouted as she slammed her arm between its jaws and violently slammed a knife over and over in it's skull. The zombie wasn't able to get past the thick fabric. Hearing movement behind her she sat up and flipping the blade around tossed it straight into the skull of a zombie sneaking up on her.

"Next time, I drag Nem's fat ass into the car with me." She said with an angry sigh as she ripped the knife out of the re-dead zombie's skull.

Chapter Text

Carlos and Tyrell moved quickly towards the police office’s front door, leaving Nem behind to do his work and moving swiftly but carefully, keeping an eye on the shadows for any movements. As they walked up the stairs, they heard the sounds of shouting. 

"Oh Jesus, Eric, what the fuck?!” a cop shouted, holding a shaking gun on a hunched over zombie in a similar uniform. “Please don't make me do this!" He gripped the shaking pistol, about to shoot when the zombie looked up. His upper face was a mess of liquid flesh, bones, and just nasty in general. You could almost see its diseased black brain through the hole. The only thing intact was its jaws. Carlos raised his rifle but couldn't get a clear shot. Damnit!

"...oh dear God…" the cop said, his gun lowering slightly. That was a mistake as the zombie lurched forward and took a deep bite out of his side. 

"Aargh!!" he shouted, fumbling back on the store, the zombie still clamped on to his stomach.  Jamming his pistol against the zombie's chest, he unloaded the clip. The force of the bullets caused the zombie to dislodge itself, as with a solid kick the cop knocked it away before limping quickly behind the solid oak doors.

Tyrell quickly moved to the door while Carlos fired a burst into the zombies head ending it.

"Shit, he locked it!" Tyrell shouted as he went to work on the lock. Just then, they heard the sound of automatic fire coming from the graveyard.  It kept on for a minute before ending.

"Thinks he's got it under control?" Tyrell asked, giving the graveyard a nervous look, unable to see through the foliage and fences.

"Honestly, bud... I don't want to think about what could give Nem trouble," Carlos replied, gun at the ready. Get the doc. Get Nem. Get back to safety, and maybe get a date? He planned and hoped as he and Tyrell made their way inside.

…

Green rushed me with all the force of a bipedal tank. His every step cracked the ground like the war machine he was made to be, ready to rip me to pieces. Not a fan of that idea... I thought, drawing my launchers and firing at Green, who sent out one sizable left hand, destroying the missile and his arm in the process. But that didn't stop him as he brought his other arm down on me, ready to cut me in half.

Acting on reflex, I raised the launcher to block it. My soul and various bones broke when his swing caved in the launcher and the ground cracked under me. As it reared back to swing again, I grabbed the light pole above, and brought it down hard on the Tyrants head. The glass shattered, and electricity coursed through its body, stunning it.

Taking up the broken launcher, I quickly stood up and slammed it viciously against its exposed heart.  The blow destroyed the launcher and sent Green reeling back in pain.  Tossing the remnants aside, I threw punch after punch at the exposed organ. Each strike was pelted with a skill I didn't know I had. I ducked and dodged each wild swing he gave.

Holy crap. I might win.  I began to hope right before the Tyrant caught one of my arms and gave a neutral look. ...Somehow I am going to blame Jill for this, as Green began to pick me up and slam me on the ground. Every blow shattered bone and broke organs as a crater formed on both sides of it.  Until it let go and tossed me against a nearby car, flipping it on its side and left me lying on the door, my right arm a mess of broken bones and torn flesh.

Ooowwwww, I groaned mentally as my bones began to knit themselves back together with the smell of gas in the air.  Rolling over, so the car was between the Tyrant and me, I placed both boots on the roof and kicked, sending it sliding across the ground, sparks catching the gas trail on fire. Drawing my Mare, I quickly tried to reload it while I held it with my tentacle. The car exploded against Tyrant, who just seemed to ignore it as it walked through the wreck.

Time this right! I shouted to myself as I chambered the .44 round into the pistol before spinning it into the air. Concentrating on everything I had, I drew my remaining rocket round; I threw it underhanded at the exposed heart of the Tyrant. Reaching and catching the Mare, I aimed and fired. The bullet hit the missile just as it hit the exposed core, causing it to explode.

"Yee-Haw," I said with a groan as Green doubled over, as dead as my potential modeling career with a massive hole in its chest. Standing up, I leaned against the wall and reloaded my Mare as my right arm finished knitting itself back together. Finishing reloading my Mare, I drew my shotgun and inspected it.

I will never love anything like I loved this gun. My grim realization hit as I saw the bend in the rotating barrels. Maybe I can use it as a very expensive tonfa...thing. I was trying to look on the bright side as I put it back in the holster. Oh, there's the jacket. Spotting the garment that I deserved at this point -let me have this universe- I walked over and put it on. It was a little tight around the shoulders, and my arms were a bit too long for the sleeves, but it was better than nothing.

Wonder how Carlos is getting on.

…

"Fuck every part of this day!” Carlos shouted, firing into the group of zombies behind the shower wall. He was thankful for the target scope he found for the assault rifle. “One at a time, assholes!" He backed up as the dust began to settle. He couldn't move very far due to the broken water heater behind him.

"Man, it sucks being popular," Carlos sighed as he tossed a frag into the group. He quickly moved behind the shower wall as the grenade went off, clearing the room. Bringing his rifle to the ready, he didn't forget to double-tap every corpse he saw.  Seen enough zombie movies to know you always watch your feet. 

As he was about to open the door, he heard a heavy growling sound on the other side. Replacing his half-empty clip with a full one, he readied a flash and as slowly as possible, cracked open the door. Tossing it into the room, he moved to the right away from the door. 

Once the grenade went off and he heard the painful screech, Carlos blitzed through the door. Keeping a safe distance from the Licker writhing in sensory pain on the wooden floor, he unloaded the full clip into its skull. He didn't stop until the monster stopped twitching, and most of its head was gone.

Carlos was about to walk away when before pausing and taking out a large knife, cut off the Licker's head.  Now you're dead...again. If it bleeds, it is alive?   Thinking about the complexities of zombie mutants, Carlos moved to the S.T.A.R.S office.

"Dr. Bard?" he called out slowly, opening the door and checking the room. Finding it empty had the reverse effect on Carlos, though.  Shit, where is he? Closing the door behind him, Carlos saw a video call coming through on the computer. Setting his rifle down close by, he answered it and saw a man in the background.

"Dr. Bard?" hearing Carlos, Dr. Bard almost ran to the computer camera.

"Oh, thank God! Do you know how long I have been trying to reach someone?!" he practically shouted at Carlos as he looked around paranoid. Good, paranoia is going to keep him alive. Hopefully.

"Don't worry; we're gonna get you out of there,” he told the doctor, trying to keep him calm. “Just tell me where you are.”

"Trapped in a goddamn hospital surrounded by every kind of abomination imaginable,” he answered, never keeping still for a moment. “Look, just send in S.T.A.R.S. They're gonna know what to do."

Sorry doc, the last S.T.A.R.S member just left town. "Nah, negative. R.I.P.D is overrun too," Carlos said, breaking the news to the doctor.

"Then figure it out!” he shouted, anger breaking through. “Umbrella's gone crazy. They're killing all the researchers.” Just then, Tyrell walked in, but Carlos stopped him with a wave of his hand offscreen. “I am the only one who knows how to make the vaccine to stop the zombies..so you can either sit there with your dick in your hand or send… send somebody capable of getting me the hell out of here!" he shouted, ending the call.  I don't think Umbrella was ever sane, Carlos thought, thinking about Jill and Nem.

"I like him already," Ty said with a smile at the doc's cheerful attitude.

"Yeah, you would,” he replied as he picked up his rifle and moved towards his friend. “You heard what he said. We can't turn him over to the company." 

"That’s not our call to make, though. That's Mikhail. I'm going to check the computer and use it if we can trace the doc's location," Tyrell told his friend, walking over to the computer. Carlos just gave a small sigh and walked towards the door. Then he heard the radio catch on.

…

Jill watched with a beautiful smile as Mr. H, burning and screeching in pain, fell into the river from her vantage on the bridge.

"Bitch can't even swim,” she said with a smirk as she tried to reach Carlos on the radio, walking along the bridge.

"Carlos? Respond," Jill called over the radio as she downed a water bottle full of green herb. Aches and headaches faded away like the wind. Thank you, drugs.

"Yeah. What's up?" he answered over the radio.

"We didn't make it. Not sure about the civilians. The train got derailed," she broke the news to the soldier, trying not to break the radio in rage.

"Derailed? What happened?"

"Freakshow showed up and killed Mikhail after Nicholai left us to die,” she answered, seeing something odd out of the corner of her eye. Was the water...bubbling? Oh shit!

Not waiting around, Jill took off at a dead sprint down the bridge just as Mr. H launched itself at the structure, breaking through the metal railing with ease.  Roaring, it started to chase after Jill. She was enjoying the thrill of the chase right up until Jill pulled some metal siding on its head.

Thankful for all those mornings running, Jill leaped a large opening in the bridge. Why the hell is that even there?! She thought in anger as she landed wrong and fell to the ground, which was lucky for her as Mr. H used its tongue pincer to pierce the ground in front of her. It quickly yanked it back, ripping a sizable chunk of concrete out with it.

Jill looked back for a quick second to see its stomach-mouth opened unthinkably wide and crushed the concrete to dust.

"...Nope," she whispered quickly, climbing over the small wall at the end of the bridge and landed in the courtyard below. Mr. H bellowed as it jumped over her and dropped on the ground in front of her. Giving an air-shaking roar, it unleashed its stomach tongue again.

Before she knew it, the tongue was right in front of her eyes. Thanking God for adrenaline, she rolled out of the way as it pierced a nearby fuel barrel and dragged it flying towards itself. Drawing her pistol, she fried quickly at the barrel, the explosion sending Mr. H stumbling back in pain.

Switching to her grenade launcher, Jill fired explosive round after round as she moved each shot detonating against its burnt hide. When it suddenly leaned its massive body back and began to swell. What the fuck is this shit? She thought of reloading her grenade launcher when she saw the strange liquid leak out of its’ slit-mouth stomach. Once it hit the ground, the ground just… melted. 

Sprinting to the nearby statue, she jumped behind it and crouched down as Mr. H vomited a large stream of stomach acid all over the center of the circle, melting the figure and the bushes around it.

Oh god, I don't want to die from monster bile, Jill thought to herself, moving away as she fired mine round into the ground. The statue melting behind her.  Seeing Mr. H running towards her laughing its horrible grinding laugh, she watched as one of its legs hit the mine. The explosion destroyed the leg, causing Mr. H to crash to the ground with a painful cry. Switching to her shotgun, Jill began to fire at its legs or more accurately, joints.

"Let's see you crawl, bitch!" Jill shouted, tossing a flash grenade at it. Blinding it as she moved around, firing Steel Boy after Steel Boy, destroying leg after leg, careful to avoid its front. It tried to crawl after her and hit her with smaller streams of stomach acid but Jill either side stepped or jumped back. All the while it laughed and laughed despite the blood oozing out from its stumps. Despite the helpless situation, even as Jill fired volley after volley, it didn't stop until finally, its upper body hunched over, and all was quiet.

Narrowing her eyes, and never looking away from it, as Jill slowly walked around it to a nearby opening. Grenade launcher at the ready for any sign of movement.

Moving under the large raised gate, Jill turned to run when she felt two large claws grab her legs and pull her down. Landing on her back, Jill saw Mr. H give her a disturbing smile as its arms were nearly torn at the joints from forcing them to extend. Drawing her gun, she fired on the chain holding the gate up, sending it crashing down on Mr. H’s arms, tearing them off with a roar of pain. Jill rushed to her feet but felt a stabbing pain on her thigh. Looking down, she saw a piece of a fang embedded in her leg. Mr. H upper leaning blood and acid dripping out of its mouth a gap visible with a maddening smile before it closed.

Should have asked for his pants, Jill thought as her body began to spasm from the virus, invading her body. Bile and spit spewing from her mouth as her body tried to fight the infection. Her immune system was currently at war doing what it could. But it was only a matter of time. Jill Valentine didn't even have the strength left to scream.

 …

Nicholai walked towards the gate with a grin on his face moving around the motionless Mr. H. He looked down on the still twitching body of Jill. His smile became even larger.

"I really must thank you, Miss Valentine. You have made my job so much easier,” he said more to himself than Jill. “Not only did you provide vital data for the Nemesis. But with this sample of Mr. H, I can now necessarily buy any island I want with the amount people would buy for both. I think I will name it after you," Nicholai said with a laugh as he drew a reinforced syringe and a knife.

Walking beside Mr. H's body, he drove the knife deep inside it's head and gave a brutal twist before moving to its bloated form. Placing the syringe he took out a full vial of its black blood. Nicholai gave another smirk as he placed it safely away. Patting its body, he started to turn away when he felt something that made his entire body break out in a cold sweat. It was breathing. Slowly looking to his right, Nicholai locked eyes with Mr. H, who giggled at his fear.

Oh shit.

…

Mr. Y was currently deep in thought as he watched three different camera angles. One showing the fight between Jill Valentine and Mr. H, and he begrudgingly had to admit Jill Valentine was very deserving of the term Special Forces operative. Shame, she has something as useless as morals.  I could always use such talent for destruction.

On the other, he saw the Nemesis moving down the side of the police building. Destroying an undead with every sweep of his arm or stomp of the leg. Indeed he would make an excellent product for so many warlords, armies, and 'civilized nations’. That last part brought a small laugh from him, causing the few remaining techs around him to freeze before working even harder. If only that damned Alex and Old Fool hadn't ruined him by putting that freak in my wondrous creation.

On the other screen Mr. Y saw a small blond girl huddled in a dumpster by a small warehouse a few blocks away from the police station. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to keep quiet, so the Licker didn't find her.  But Mr. Y didn't care about this. What he cared about was the necklace around the child's neck. At that moment, he had an idea that made him clap his hands in delight.

"Someone get me a line to that fool Irons and patch me through to the station's intercom system,” he said to the techs, never turning around as they scrambled to obey.

 …

Okay, no one answer the knocking at the door. It is not like I want to come in, I thought with a grumble as I walked up the wooden stairs around the side, going in the side door. It didn't seem smart to break down the main defensive point of the building. 

As I walked through the hallway, I noticed the dead and undead littering the hallway. Most, if not all, wearing police uniforms. Men and women whose duty was to protect and serve. Now reduced to monsters eating those they were tasked to protect. 

"Testing, testing,” a voice said from the intercom in the corner. 'Nemesis, can you hear me?"

"Name Nem," I said, clenching my fists as I figured out I was speaking to someone from Umbrella, noticing the camera in the other corner.

"How quaint,” the voice mocked a slight European accent to it. “But, I will call what I created by the name I gave it." Hearing this, my body went rigid in rage.

"....what?" I asked my jaw clenched so tight I was sure they could bite through steel at the moment.

"Oh sure, your mind and some others aren't mine. But the flesh, the parasite, the power! Those are my creations. If you wish, you may call me Father," the voice said with a slight laugh at the end.

" Asshole, " I said, putting as much venom as I could in the word.

"That works too,” the voice said, uncaring. “But, I have called you for a very special reason."

"Don't care," I said, turning around to find Carlos and Tyrell.

"Not even if it could save Miss Valentine?” he asked, making me pause. “Aw humanity. Not my creation. I find it so hindering to the grand scheme of things."

"Explain," I said, facing the camera, ignoring the zombies stumbling towards me.

"So rude. But I do hate wasting time,” he said with a small sigh. ”About three blocks east of your location, that's the side with windows by the way, is a warehouse with a green roof. In an alley by it is a little girl by the name of Sherry. Bring her here, and I will tell you. By the way, you better hurry. She is about to be eaten." And with the intercom clicked off. I felt pure rage circulate my whole body.  It caused me to bend over as all of my muscles tensed until I reared back and gave a roar so loud, it seemed to rend the air and shattered every window near me. Not hesitating, I charged through the wall and headed east. I cracked the ground as I landed and broke down the gate as I ran with everything I had. Anything in my path was crushed or knocked aside.

No more Alastors!

Chapter Text

Sherry Birkin was a courageous and clever girl. If nothing else could be said about her, this is an undeniable fact. She had been at school when the outbreak happened. Instead of following the rest of the class, she had left through the window and went around the back of the building.  Despite the yelling of her teacher, Sherry kept running. This would turn out to be the right decision as she heard screaming coming from the front of the school.

As she ran, Sherry saw the world end around her. People ran through the streets, screaming as the undead chased after them. Cars crashed all over, destroying buildings, police and the like tried to fight the undead or save people. But it was like watching someone trying to contain a fire in a metal trash can. You're going to get burned, and the destruction is going to get out.  Sherry was on the verge of panicking as she gripped her necklace from the safety of an alley.

Just have to find Mom and Dad. They'll know what to do. As she made a plan, Sherry heard a noise behind her. Not thinking she quickly slid into a storm drain as something clawed the ground where she had been.

What followed next was a lot of hiding in the sewers and squeezing into narrow pipes. Sherrey repeatedly told herself she should be happy for being the smallest kid in her class, as undead, and the monsters struggled to reach her. She was always just a hair out of reach from the many claws and tongues. But every time she was tempted to go to the surface, something would show up and begin chasing her again.

 Sherry had been down there for nearly half a day and was getting hungry. Her mind and nerves were on their last strands. Finally, seeing an open maintenance hole, Sherry decided she needed to get out of this sewer. Slowly, she made her way back up to the surface as she kept an ear open for any movement or strange noises. Climbing out of the hole, the first thing that Sherry noticed was the sheer lack of noise.

Living in Raccoon City meant living with noise. Whether from people, engines, or even just the sounds that come from living in a city. But all Sherry heard was silence and destruction as far as she could see. Don't cry. Don't cry,  she repeated to herself, moving low as she made her way to a nearby dumpster, unaware of the shadows moving along the roofs nearby.

Looking inside the dumpster for anything to eat, Sherry thought about all the food that she let go to waste. All those lonely meals. I wonder if they're even looking for me?  As she thought this, something wet landed on her shoulder. Looking at her shoulder, some slimy substance had fallen on her. Slowly leaning her head back, Sherry quickly covered her mouth, so she didn't scream. 

The Licker moved slowly down the wall tongue, walking around it like a snake out as it slowly searched for any food. Backing up as quietly as possible, she turned around to see another Licker rounded the corner saliva dripping from its jaws. Acting on instinct, Sherry crawled into the dumpster and curled up near the wall biting into her arm, so no sound got out. 

She didn't know how long she was there. Time seemed to crawl by as the Lickers continued to patrol the alley. There was one time when one of their tongues came close to touching her. As silent tears streamed down her face, she grabbed a moldy hamburger covered with maggots and placed it on the tongue.

Spearing the meal, so the tip of the tongue was an inch from her eyes, it retreated. The Licker howled approval as it devoured the meal. Giving a small sigh of relief, Sherry looked up and felt her heart stop. Above was a creature similar in shape to the other two but armored.

All along its body was some somewhat grayish-green covering. It was easily bigger than the other two by at least double, if not more. Serrated tips ran along its claws as it crouched on the roof edge. As it looked down at Sherry, a large yellow eye on its plated, dome-covered head. It gave a low growl as it pounced.

Sherry yelped as she slammed the lid shut in the dumpster. The force of the leap caused the dumpster to slam violently against the brick wall, making her hit her head on the metal wall. The Armored Licker growled as it slammed a claw into the dumpster tearing into the metal with ease the claw tip inches from Sherry's face. 

She felt every swipe, hit, and tackle from the Lickers as they tried to get into the dumpster. Sherry curled up in the center as she covered her ears from the terrible howling from the monsters. Tears streamed down her face. Until finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

"MOMMY!!" she shouted as loud as she could. A child's desperate plea for their parent. But it wasn't a parent who answered as something caught the rolling dumpster with a surprisingly soft stop. Just then, a loud explosion occurred from somewhere behind the dumpster. She heard a squeak as the lid opened.

Still too scared to open her eyes, Sherry felt a hot and very gentle hand caress her head. It made her feel as strange as it may sound in this situation... Safe.

"You did so great,” the voice was so different from the hand. But still, Shirley wasn't scared. “Be right back." 

…

Nem moved to the front of the dumpster, spitting out the near bucketful of blood that came from talking so clearly. But he ignored the pain and the exhaustion he felt from running so fast and thinking that he looked down at his torn pants and boots. His legs had become almost S-shaped, giving him incredible speed. He watched with interest as they moved back to their regular shape.

Must be part of the secondary mutation. I need to find some food after this . A deep rumbling came to form his stomach as he had the Mare at the ready. The fire from the gas barrel he tossed earlier began to subside.  The Lickers and the Armored One began to pace. The Armored one seemed to growl orders as it barked at them. 

He fired a round at the Armored One aiming for its eye, only to see it bounce off as it closed an eyelid similar to its skin. It growled at Nem from the pain.  Of course, it isn't that easy. Armored gave some quick barks, and the other two Licker jumped to the side. They began to run on the buildings as the Armored one charged up the middle. In response, Nem did what could be either the dumbest thing or the smartest thing he could think of. It all depended on how it worked out.

 In an instant, the three Lickers pounced at him, aiming to hit him from the sides and the front. Nem decided to use his head and, rearing back, slammed his head down on the Armored Licker's head, sending it crashing to the ground.  Raising his arms, Nem fired his Mare,  destroying the left Licker's brain as he speared the other one with his tentacle. He was making it resemble a shish-kebab before swinging it around and slamming it against the downed Armored.

Again and again, Nem repeated this till there was just paste on the tentacle that he sent flying away with a flick. Then he viciously stomped down its neck before bending down and placing the barrel inside its mouth.

"Chew this," he said with a growl as he blew a hole through its head. It splayed out on the ground, dead. But he was going to make sure right there, as Nem grabbed its head and began twisting it. Until finally, its head was ripped clear off. Nem was going to keep going, but he had better things to do.

So, standing up, Nem walked back to the dumpster tossing the head away as he did. He gently knocked on the lid.

"Is… safe,” he called out, trying to make his voice more...human. As the lid was rising, Nem quickly placed a hand on it. "Raise… slowly." And with that, Nem took a few steps back as the top was raised and prepared for the worst.

…

Chief Irons paced his office nervously as he kept glancing at the phone on his desk. Why haven't they called yet?! Was he able to reach the girl?! Have I been abandoned?  Have I been infected?! Numerous thoughts poured into his mind as the all-too loud clock chimed on the wall.

He had lost contact with William before all this started. Irons knew that meant that Umbrella found out about their plans to make off with the G-Virus. Of course, he had tried to leave, but his accounts were frozen, and he was too afraid to try and drive. The only place he was safe was the police station. To cap off this day, the fucking zombie apocalypse happened.

God damn useless men. All they had to do was secure the building and keep out the undead and mutants. But no, those sons of bitchs had to let people in and compromise the station. Rage filling him, Irons wrapped his hands around the neck of a stuffed fox. Remembering the feeling of those warm organs on his hands and all that blood brought a smile to his face. Oh, how he wished he could be with his beloved Katherine in his particular room.  Just then, the phone rang.

Moving faster than his rotund form would let on, Irons sprang across the room and answered the phone.

"Y-yes, sir?"

"The Nemesis is on his way back. Remember, Irons; your job is to get the girl and the locket to NEST. We need both, Irons," Mr. Y said in careful, precise tones as though speaking to an idiot.

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir! And you'll have the cure for me?" he asked desperately into the phone, nodding the whole time. Irons could feel his skin dying as he spoke.

"Irons, I promise your worries will end very quickly," Mr. Y said, hanging up. Placing the phone back, Irons took a seat in his chair as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. Finally, things are looking up for me. How dangerous can this Nemesis be anyway?  

…

Ham is amazing, I thought as I took another chunk out of an eight-pound pre-cooked ham I bought from a corner deli. By bought, I mean, I may have ripped open an ATM and left the money on the counter… Sherry promised not to tattle. Speaking of, Sherry was on my shoulder, eating a sandwich. And honestly, I can see how such a little kid survived for so long. The second she saw me, she immediately ran over and hugged my leg. 

"Thank you for saving me," she said, crying. Acting on instinct, I immediately picked her up and hugged her gently, found the deli, and got us some food. Sherry took that time to clean up. Sewer is not the right smell for a little lady.

I was taking the side alleys to get back to the station. I wasn't going to take the straight path as there would have been undead and mutants drawn to the noise I made sprinting down the street. Doing this was going to take some time, and Jill was probably dying somewhere because of this detour. But I couldn't risk it. I don't want any more kids to die because of me. Throwing the last bit of ham in my mouth, I crunched in the bone, turning it into powder from anger.

"So, where are we going?" Sherry asked, finishing off her sandwich. 

"Police… station," I said, grabbing a nearby cinder block and chucking it at a zombie down the alley. Its skull was obliterated as the cinder block went through it. Was trying to avoid gunshots at the moment- the less noise, the better.

"Think my mom and dad are there?" she asked, one arm wrapped around my head. How are you not terrified of me? I wondered at the bravery of this girl. 

"Maybe," I told her, trying not to raise her hopes but also not break them. Just then, another zombie wearing a white coat came stumbling into the alley.  Grabbing a nearby pipe, I tore it out of the wall and tossed it at the zombie.

But it raised its arm and caught it? ...oh, what now? I asked as I placed one hand on Shirley to keep her secure as I prepared to run. As it left the shadow, I finally got a good look at it. But unfortunately, so did Shirley.

"Daddy?" She asked, panic on her face as she looked at her father, his right side a mass of what looked like tumors and a claw. So much for being quiet. I drew my Mare and was about to fire when Shirley shouted.

"Wait! Don't shoot my dad!" hearing this, Mr. Birkin charged us, shouting and slamming the pipe at me. Moving Sherry to a one arm carry, I moved sideways and blocked the tube with my arm. Huh, he isn't very strong. I realized before he stabbed me deep in the side with his claws. Little bastard!

Swinging my arm, I sent him flying into the wall nearby.

"Dad, please stop!" Shirley shouted at what remained of her father, who just moaned a strange guttural sound.  Sorry Sherry.  I quickly fired four rounds into his legs effectively destroying them. Then holding her tight, I made a claw on my hand and feet before scaling the nearby building. Sherry was crying against my shoulder the whole time.

I am an asshole.

….

This trip went south fast, Claire thought as she and Leon drove down what looked like a street from Mad Max mixed with Night of the Living Dead. They were on their way to the police station for answers to what was happening. But the more they saw, the more hope they lost.

"Oh my God this is all so unreal," Claire said, looking out the window as the radio repeated the same message on loop.

“All survivors that can hear this, get to the RCPD. We have medical supplies and food. All survivors that can hear this, get to the RCPD…”

"The police station's not much farther. They'll know something," Leon said, trying to encourage her and himself. Claire leaned forward as she asked what they were both thinking.

"Yeah. But what if we're the only ones?” she turned to Leon, worried as she kept talking. “What if there is no one else-"

"No. There are survivors,” he replied, turning from the road to face her. “It's a big city...there has to be." And with that, the conversation died as they both tried to internalize what was happening. It wasn't long before they came up to a roadblock.

"Well, guess we’re walking,” Leon said as he put the car in park. Claire watched with grim fascination as a duo of zombies chowed down on a corpse.

"Maybe we should make that running," she suggested as the zombies turned to face them.

"Good call," Leon said just as a pack of zombies swarmed the car. 

"Leon we gotta back up!" she shouted, seeing the coast clear behind them right up until a semi started racing down the road behind them.

"Get out!" he shouted as they tried to do just that. Claire was slamming on the door when she looked out the window and was stunned.

Dear God, you could grind meat on those. A set of massive abs had appeared where the zombies had been. Next thing she knew, the roof of the patrol car was ripped off as a giant reached down and ripped them and their seats out of the car. Slinging them over it's shoulders with ease. the giant ran to the safety of a nearby alley. 

It set them down safely under a fire escape where a little girl was looking down at them. Claire and Leon watched as the semi crashed into the patrol, exploding in a fireball that illuminated the giant. The giant's face was… to be nice, a melted imitator of a person as it's skin was missing from around its mouth, revealing surprisingly white teeth.

"Okay?" it asked, reaching over and cutting them free of their seat belts with a claw. Claire and Leon both gave each other a look.

"We are gonna need a minute," she said honestly, turning back to the giant.

It just gave a nod and quickly turned to face a roof across from them.

"Is something wrong?" Leon asked, standing up, eyeing the giant wearily. The giant was silent for a minute before looking away.

 "Nothing.' It said, reaching up for the girl and placing her gently on his shoulders. 'Come..on." As it walked away walking at an average person jog.

"So...follow him?" Claire asked, drawing her revolver.

"He is going towards the police station.' Leon said before drawing his Matilda. 'That being said if he starts saying brains I kneecap and you grab the girl." Claire gave a brief nod before they followed after him.

…

Ada Wong watched the group from behind a high wall on the opposite rooftops. She gave a small smile as she moved to a nearby ladder. 

This job just got a bit more interesting.

Chapter Text

Please be okay, Jill, I kept repeating to myself like a prayer as I slasher-walked with all my might towards the police stations. It was just insight as I pushed or kicked obstacles out of my way on the sidewalk—Sherry on my shoulder and….Pretty hair and Cool jacket right behind us. I should ask their names.

"Names?" I asked the duo behind me. Trying to be friendly with a voice like a whetting stone on sandpaper. Dream big, Nem. Dream big.

"Oh, right, um. I'm Officer Leon S. Kennedy of the RCPD. This is supposed to be my first day." We all stopped and looked at him for a minute. 

"I hope your first day gets better,” Clair said, breaking the silence and patting his shoulder as she kept an eye on some nearby zombies. “For all our sakes. Anyway, my name is Claire Redfield."

I paused, hearing this as I opened the gates.

"Know Chris?" I asked, remembering Brad mention him. Hearing the screeching of the gates, undead started to appear from corners and cars like a screeching dinner bell. Claire drew her stub-nose and fired at a nearby crawling zombie. Nice shot.  We quickly moved through the gate, Leon closed and locked it behind. Zombies were slamming into it as they reached for us.

"There that should hold them," he said, backing away from the gate. Hearing this, I turned my head to the right and saw the hole in the gate from my earlier fight. Undead were already climbing through it. 

"Nem?" Sherry said, taping my shoulder as she looked the other way. Turning that way, I saw even more undead walking towards us. 

"Inside," I told them, placing Sherry on the ground next to Claire and Leon. Claire quickly grabbed Sherry and made for the door while I drew my Mare. Ready to slow down the slowly growing horde.

"It's locked!' Claire shouted down at us. “I can pick it, but I am gonna need a minute,” she said, kneeling, pulling out a small kit and getting to work. Where do you even get a lock pick kit from? I began to fire at the zombies to the left. Every blast of the .44 caliber Mare blew off head after head. Leon stood next to me as he began to fire at the ones to the right of us. I quickly looked down at him. Our eyes met before we gave each other a brief nod before going back to back.

I fired and backhanded every single one that came within range. It got to the point where a whole bunch was in a line, so I decided to try something. Swinging my right arm forward, my tentacle pierced through the group. I was spreading through their skulls with ease. Thank god I don't have a sense of touch with this thing.

Reeling it back, I turned to see how Leon was doing. I was just in time to see him spin kick a zombie in the head. He was sending it crashing to the ground before giving it a double-tap to the skull. I guess if it works? 

"It's open!" Jill shouted as she and Sherry dashed inside the building. Leon and I slowly made our way up the steps covering the rear. Making our way inside, we closed the door before I proceeded to grab anything substantial nearby and propped them against the door.

There that should keep them out and us safe. Turning around, I had a novel experience. I got shot in the head.

…

Ada Wong moved quickly across the rooftops.  Her movements deceptively quick despite the fact she was wearing high heels. But when any day might be your last alive, you might as well dress how you want. Besides, having steel pointed heels comes in very handy. She thought with a smile as she studied the police department. Ada quickly turned and drew her pistol.

"Step out slowly with your hands very visible and very empty,” she said, making it very clear she would not hesitate to put the figure in the shadows down.

"Abigail,” said the man who was dressed as a spy. Complete with sunglasses, a trench coat, and fedora. And people wonder why I am considered the beest when this is my competition.

"Salem,” Ada responded to her...partner for this job. Lowering the gun slightly but not far enough, she couldn't blow their head off at a moment's notice. “What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at our safe house."

"Boss said the safehouse might have been compromised. He told me I might find you around the police station. He wanted me to bring you this,” he said, slowly reaching into his pocket and handing over a two-way video radio. “He also wanted me to tell you Code Highlander. Whatever that means." In a motion too fast for most people, Ada blew her partner's brains out. She didn't even glance at the falling body as she started up the radio.

"It means there can only be one,” she said, turning on the radio. Weaker appeared on the monitor, smirking. “Wanna tell me why you had me kill my only way out?"

"Let's not say that like you don't have an escape plan of your own. We are both too smart for that,” Albert said, eyes unreadable behind those sunglasses he never seemed to take off. “And the parameters of the job have changed, Miss Wong." Ada gave a half-smirk of her own as she walked over to watch the building.

"Does it have anything to do with the walking flesh tank currently housed in the department?" Just then, a low growl came from the radio. To say Ada was surprised would be an understatement. Did Wesker just...display emotion? 

"..yes, Miss Wong. I want you to take a sample of spinal fluid from the Nemesis and bring it with you alongside the G-Virus,” he said, his jaw tight in anger. “And before you ask, there is a small drill tipped syringe and a dart gun full of Carfentanil in a pack inside your ex-partner's trench coat."  Ada rifled through the coat pockets finding the medical pack and a snub-nosed .357 with a few speed loaders. Well, those will come in handy , she thought as she placed them in her coat pocket.

"Any other orders regarding it?" she asked, securing the package.

"Kill him afterward,” he said, ending the call. Ada was confused for a moment. Him?

…

To say Mr. Y was angry was an understatement. After he was done with that slob Irons, a security force had come in and placed him under… observation for unethical behavior. That was the official term. In honesty, he was waiting for them to go through his notes, his files, and flip a coin to see if he was going to be a volunteer. 

I never thought Irons would have the guts to betray me. Note to self if he survives: find out how much skin a human can survive without, he thought to himself as he sat in the cell perfectly at ease. Then he heard the sound of combat boots coming down the hall.

"All right, crazy, out of the suit," a soldier said in full black combat gear, an assault rifle cradled in his arms.

"First off, you will address me with respect, you common thug. Secondly, you don't want me taking off this suit," Mr. Y said his face unknowable behind his darkened visor. In response the guard simply aimed his rifle at Mr. Y.

"Two things from me. One, shut up Mr. Crazy. Two, I need to check for any vital info you have on you,” he said, his voice brokering no discussion. 

"Very well. One more thing, though,” Mr. Y said as he started to unzip his suit. “What do you know about… parasites?" The next moment there was a series of screams, crashing metal, and grinding of teeth. 

"Well, that should have us going for a few days," Mr. Y said, walking into the metal hallway, zipping up his hazmat suit as fresh blood coated it. In various parts of his suit, something seemed to be moving. “Now to find a terminal and a phone. I should also find the closest custodian. I have some… cleaning to do."

…

Getting a shot in the head is not fun, I thought as I sat down by a desk while Sherry wrapped the top of my head in bandages.

"There that should help,” she said, finished dressing my already healed wound. Nice to know my skull can stop pistol rounds.

"To be fair. I have had a rough day," Officer Marvin said in his defense as Claire tended to his wound. Meanwhile, Leon was putting on some body armor and drawing and redrawing his gun.

"Same," I said, placing my hands on the desk as I stood up. The wood creaking under my weight. I stared up at the statue and all I smell is ash as well as l my burnt flesh as I crawl out of the ruined estate I at first called home, then hell. Embers still burning behind me.

"I really should have paid more attention in those chemical classes," I rasped out tasting my own burnt tongue. Thankfully, I learned to shut out pain or I would scream.  I knew Spencer wouldn't have died in that fire. Old bastard would be too smart for that. But I know I got some of those instructors.

Making my way to the water edge, I looked down at myself and grinned a lipless smile. I looked like burnt meat and death. But I would heal. The little viruses and parasites inside me would fix me. So long as I had fuel. Thinking that I grabbed a floating fish corpse and began to chomp at it. The meat was sweet after days of nothing.

Sitting up, I swung my legs forward as I continued to eat even the bones. Looking down at the stump where my left foot used to be. 

"I don't think that's growing back." I thought out loud as I grabbed another fish corpse. In the middle of the pond was a large statue covered in soot. It was standing tall and her proud spear raised high as though to smite the heavens.

"Just wait, Umbrella, just wait. I will end you in every way imaginable. No more Alastors,"I vowed as a tear ran down my face.

"PAY ATTENTION TO ME YOU GIANT RETARDED FUCK!" a voice shouted over the intercom as I came back from the memory. Causally wiping the blood tear from my eye I noticed Sherry hugging my leg. Patting her leg I glanced up at the intercom. That's not the voice from earlier... 

"Who you?" I asked, gently rubbing Sherry's head.

"I AM THE PERSON IN CHARGE!" the voice shouted.

"In my experience the person in charge doesn't need to say they're in charge," Leon said, drawing his pistol for safety as he kept an eye on the doors.

"Shut the hell up, rookie! You're supposed to listen to your superiors!" 

"Irons!? You fat fuck where have you been this entire time?!' Marvin shouted trying to rise to his feet only to fall back groaning in pain. “We needed you!"

"I told you to keep everyone out! I told you to shoot anyone who tries to get in!” Irons shouted, his voice rising with each word. “But no. You all had to be fucking idiots and try to be heroes. And now look, you’re all dead."

"THOSE WERE YOUR MEN, YOU BASTARD!! THOSE WERE MY FRIENDS!!" Marvin shouted rising to his feet before almost falling over as he began to spit up blood.  Thankfully Leon and Claire caught him in time.

"And now they're dead and shambling around like the idiots they are,” Irons said with a mocking jeer. 

"The… point!" I growled out, my gravel voice echoing through the room.

"...tch. Fine here is the point. Kill everyone in that room and bring me the girl. Or else you will never see the Valentine bitch again," Irons threatened, trying to resume control. He failed.

"No," I said without hesitation, crossing my arms, feeling my fingers dig deep into my coat. Claire and Leon both gave me an odd look.

"...did you not hear me, you fearless retard?" He shouted at me.

"Only toads use ugly words, you big jerk!" Sherry shouted at the intercom, sticking her tongue out.

"DID YOU JUST CALL ME A TOAD YOU LITTLE BITCH?!" he shouted. Hearing this I hooked and drew my Mare leg firing at the intercom.

"Thanks. I was about to do the same,” Claire said with a smile before seeing my eye. “Hey are you okay?"

"No," I said honestly, feeling like I was about to break down. I had just essentially abandoned Jill. She could be dying somewhere and in this massive city how would I even begin to find her? Claire gently placed a hand in my arm causing me to turn around.

"For what it is worth my brother talked about Jill. She will understand," Claire said smiling at me.

"Will?" I asked, confused by her word choice. 

"Oh yeah. If Jill is anywhere as tough as my brother Chris one little zombie outbreak isn't gonna kill them," she said with a small laugh. I just grinned along with her. Wonder how terrifying my smile is anyway.  

"Hey guys I found a floor plan for the building,”  Leon said, placing a large map on the desk. “I think the first order of business is getting armed. Probably undead crawling around here in droves. Then we can work on finding a way out of the city." 

"One of my friends was investigating that,” Marvin said laying on the couch. “He should be the first….. corpse behind the second set of shutters. Always writing in a little journal," he finished, pointing at the shutters in the corner. 

"So we have a game plan. One gets supplies, the other goes body searching,” Claire said, draping one arm over Sherry's shoulder. “I will stay here with Sherry. Make sure that Irons fuck doesn't come near her."

"I will see about finding a way out. Investigating is a police matter after all." Leon joked while glancing at the door.

"Get… supplies,” I volunteered, grabbing an empty duffel bag from behind the counter. I held up one hand and made it a claw. “Master… key." Just then Sherry gripped my leg tight as she looked up, trembling.

"Please. Please come back," she started to beg with tears in her eyes. I just kneeled down and hugged her gently. 

"Promise," I said making my way up the stairs. First stop the armory. Then the STARS office. And finally stop by Irons office. We need to talk about his...language

…

A large form was moving slowly through the city, crushing zombies and mutants under massive leather boots. Cars, burning debris, and walls were destroyed as it walked without pause.  Raising its fedora covered head, it gazed towards a building in the distance. Only one goal in it is limited mind. 

Kill them all. Secure the girl. 

...

Underground in the sewers William Birkin was shuffling along. A massive bloodshot eye on his shoulder fixed forward.

Chapter Text

Nem moved through the precinct, quickly checking any rooms or lockers on his way to the armory and STARS Office. Any zombies were destroyed with a claw stab to the brain, and any locked door or blocked hallway was kicked down. His vision was surprisingly sharp in the limited light of the hall. Can add minor night vision to the list of powers I have. He took any spare clips from the belts of fallen officers he found before moving them gently to the side. Stashing the clips in the duffel bag on his shoulder. Dried blood lined the walls in some places. Speaking of past carnage.

Moving around the corner, he came across the half-eaten body of a Licker. Kneeling, Nem picked up one of the spent assault rifle shells littering the ground. Most likely Carlos’ work. He is well trained, Nem noted, seeing the grouping of shots around the head. But what's been eating it? Hearing shuffling at the other end of the hall, he drew and fired his Mare, hitting the zombie in it's… Licker head?

What the hell is this now? He wondered as the zombie kept coming forward as what looked like a Licker head began to burst out from its head.  Large claws started to sprout from the end of its hands. A long tongue darted out of its mouth as it let loose a loud screech.

Nem quickly fired twice at the Licker Person, its head exploding in bones and blood. Reloading his Mare, Nem immediately counted his round left. Twenty-nine shots left. Better start using my body more, Nem thought as he eyed the cigar in his bullet loop next to the holster.

Suggest using secondary mutation. The voice replied as Nem placed the cigar in his mouth. 

What exactly is this secondary mutation anyway?  Nem asked as he tried to think of a way to light the cigar as he moved down the hall to the STARS office and armory. 

The mutation is based on the host psyche and behavioral patterns. 

That's…. weird, but I'm talking to a voice in my head that may not exist, so there is that. And what is my mutation based on then? Nem asked as he tried something. Placing his fingers in front of the cigar tip, he snapped as hard and fast as he could. The friction lit the cigar on the first try. That is so cool, he thought, happy for these little distractions. 

The mutation is based on the host’s need to protect others, complete lack of self-preservation, and refusal of compromise regarding personal values. The host is based on 'Knight.'  All of a sudden, Nem paused, or more accurately froze as the cigar burned between his teeth. Tobacco smoke slightly escaped from his lipless mouth as it rose in front of an unseeing eye. A street lamp outside had flickered to life, causing a mass of shadows that had appeared in the wall in front of him. Slowly turning around, Nem saw Lickers crawling over the window. Hissing and growling, they seemed to stare at him without any eyes.

We are going to revisit this conversation in a bit, Nem thought as he took the cigar out of his mouth and put it out with his thumb, before slipping it back in the loop. Drawing his Mare, he carefully placed it against the glass. Right on the other side was a Licker head.

Wonder how Leon is doing? Nem wondered as he destroyed the Licker's brain and started the party. A very, very crappy party.

…

Leon fired his Matilda into the small group of zombies, stumbling down the hell. What the hell is this?  he nearly shouted as it took almost three rounds to put down one zombie. I am so done with hard-headed zombies. He changed targets to their knees, watching them fall over. The bullets shattering their knee caps as they tried to crawl. Moving quickly, he slammed a booted foot on the necks of each one of them. Breaking the bones and immobilizing them.

He was already semi caked with dried blood from crawling underneath that gutter. The fact the lights didn't come on wasn't helping. Plus, adding the stench of death and rot in the air. This is some horror game crap, h e realized as he opened a large pair of doors, finding himself in some kind of press conference room.

"Breaking news, things have gone to shit,” he muttered to himself in dark humor as he kept moving. He was watching shadows and supposedly immobile bodies and walking further down the building for the second pair of shutters. Just have to find a small leather book, and it should have a map. Right? Leon asked himself as he moved a downed locker out of the way.

As he moved, he couldn't help but think about Nem. A walking monstrosity of science that came from god knows where. Yet so far, he was acting with a surprising amount of, well, humanity. The girl, Sherry, seemed to trust him, and he did save their lives. He was still going to have some questions for the big guy. Just then, he heard a crashing of glass as he walked into a room where zombies were coming in through the windows—eyes filled with hunger and death.

"Nope," Leon said, moving quickly as he slid over the desk into the small room. He could feel the undead swipe through his hair as he landed on the ground. Cooking a grenade, he tossed it back into the room and hunkered down. Chunks of body and shrapnel exploded over his head as the shell tore through the undead. 

Getting up, Leon scanned the room and fired a quick round into a still crawling zombie. Better hurry. Don't want to wait around for whatever that is going to bring calling. Standing in front of the metal shutter, he reloaded his Matilda before holstering it. Reaching down, he gave a small grunt as he raised the screen a right foot off the ground—just enough room to look around and grab.

Crouching down, he pulled out his flashlight and quickly found the book… clutched in a severed human hand in a pool of blood. 

"Because of course, this fits in my day so far." He was about to grab it when his hand stopped just before he reached the shutter. Eyes going wide as a deep growling appeared from the other side, and nails clicked against the linoleum. Leon took a deep breath as he steadied his nerves. Placing the flashlight down and readying his gun, he focused.

God, I hope this isn't my life. In a flash of movement made possible by a keen sense of hand-eye coordination, Leon grabbed the book and yanked it back. He felt cold breath on the back of his hand as a zombie dog slammed its open jaw against the ground. Slamming the shutter shut, Leon hauled tailback the way he came. A significant dent was forming on the shutter as the dog tried to reach him.

Leon didn't make it halfway before he heard it on his heels. Not going to make it. Spinning around, he brought his gun up to fire, but the dog was already too close.  Falling back, he brought his legs up and kicked out, sending the dog flying. Rolling back with the fall, he crouched and fired at the undead beast— every round finding its way into its brain.

Walking past the rekilled zombie Leon had a few thoughts in his head. Foremost, he was super happy to be a cat person. And second, he pretty sure heard more barking behind him.

….

Irons was currently in panic mode as he watched the screens in his secret room. Each one was showing a different part of the building. But right now, he was focused on the one showing the hallway to the STARS office.

"...no one told me…" he said to himself as he watched the Nemesis tear through the Lickers. Literally, tear through them. In the hallway, there wasn't a lot of room for the Lickers to use their superior agility or numbers against the Nemesis. But that still didn't help assure Irons as he watched Nemesis grab a Licker and tear it in half.  

"What the fuck do I do?" he asked himself as he began to pace back and forth. Right now, he was stuck between a rock and a tough place that wanted to brutalize him. What do I do?!  He started to panic, scratching at his head madly.

"Oh, Irons, panic does not become men of… power,” a voice said from behind Irons, causing him to turn and try for his gun, only to feel a cold barrel pressed against his forehead as Ada cocked the hammer on the .357. He slowly raised his hands as sweat poured down his face. She calmly looked over at the screen, watching the Nemesis end the last Licker. “Or at least real men don't."

"How… how did you get in here?" Iron asked, voice slightly quivering, not used to being on this side of the gun with women. This was an emergency room that he had spent quite a bit of money on keeping hidden. Ada just responded with a smug grin as she stepped back, uncocking her gun and placing it back in her coat pocket.

"By being something Umbrella prides itself on. The best in my field,” she said, keeping her hand in her pocket at all times. “And right now I have a plan where we both get what we want. You avoid a horrible, and in my personal opinion, suitable death. And I get my objective. So shut up and listen. Here is the plan." 

…

I moved inside the STARS office just as the Licker corpse dislodged from the roof. You got to love a crowded place and a monster body. Walking through the office, the first thing I noticed was all the pictures. Picking them all up, I lost myself. This was Jill's team. I wonder which one was Chris.  I then take every picture I can find. These were… these are Jill and Chris's precious memories. They deserve to have them.  

Gathering every picture I can, including one of someone's pre-teen daughter playing basketball. I carefully looked for something safe to wrap them in. Taping them tight in a zip lock bag, I place it in the duffel bag. Feeling good about myself for the first time in a while, I move to the armory door and… see my face in the glass.

My deformed head and face were like burnt plastic. The unhealthy color of my skin and the surgery marks were evident the closer you looked. Shoulder and neck muscles showed through small gaps. The exposed teeth and chin. What was the difference between me and the other things out there? I felt rage build up in me despite efforts to keep them diluted. Fingers turned into claws as they dug into my palm. 

I am a monster who abandoned his friend for strangers. I am a monster who can destroy so quickly. Who knows what is going to make me like that other Tyrant. A flesh machine for war and death. What fucking 'Knight'?. Limited past and the only future for someone like me is death and isolation or possible enslavement because of Umbrella. All of this is because of them!!!

"UMBRELLA!!!" I shouted this last word, uncaring about the pain or blood from my throat. Unleashing massive blow after blow on the reinforced armory door. It cracked after the first one caving in. The glass broke after three hits, falling to the ground. Until finally, I gave one last cry as I gave it a hammer blow crumbling the door like a tin can. Standing, I felt the rage and sorrow being pushed away, as whatever kept my emotions in check went into overdrive.  

Placing my hands on my face, I leaned against the wall and sighed. The act of destruction temporarily sated me. Huh, I got so heated my breath was red from blood. Taking my hands, I wiped my face off with my sleeve, leaving a red streak across it. Okay, Nem, you have had your outburst, now focus. Get the guns and weapons. Make your way back to the main hall and then visit Irons. 

Stepping inside the armory, I found myself in a metal candy shop of goodies. Jesus. Grenade launchers, machine pistols, shotguns, grenades, and… is that a single-action revolver?  Tossing the duffle bag in the middle of the floor, I went to work. Every working gun, every spare clip, attachment, and the explosive device, went into the container. Hell, I even threw a few collapsible taser sticks, some armor for Claire and even a large metal riot shield, easily carried in one hand, for me anyway, and secured it to my back with a strap. Never know when something is gonna spit acid at you. Plus shields are awesome weapons

  Zipping up the bag that was nearly fit to burst, I slung it over my shoulder. Just as I was about to leave, I spotted a beret on one of the desks. 

Without thinking, I put it in the duffel bag and headed back to the hall. Wonder how Sherry is doing .

…

"Statically speaking, I should have won by now," Marvin joked to Sherry as he lost another game of Rock, Paper, and Scissors. He was resting on the couch nearby—a fresh bandage around his wound. Thought it was already dyed with black blood.

"You know you might win more if you didn't throw rock every time," Claire said as she sat near the desk, watching the cameras for dangers. It is like a horror movie, s he thought as she watched zombies wander around the halls. Bloodstains on the walls, bodies were hanging everywhere, and some kind of… mutations crawling the walls. And one of them… no not one of them. Someone that looks like them is helping us. This is going to be a story for Chris later. 

"Or Sherry is cheating,” he said, trying to sound upbeat despite the paleness of his skin. He is getting worse by the second, Claire noticed as she watched them out of the corner of her eye. Sherry frowned at his accusation.

"You can't cheat at this game,” she said, crossing her arms.

"Smart kids can do anything, shorty," Martin said, starting to laugh before it turned into coughing into his elbow so violently his body began to bend. Sherry started to panic before Claire rushed over and gently gave Martin some water as his coughing subsided. She couldn't help but notice the blood on his chin. Then all of a sudden, he got an eerily calm look in his eyes.

"Claire, I’m done for,” he said, getting up with a groan.

"Hold on, you shouldn't get up, she said, trying to stop him. He just waved her away.

"I have seen this happen too much,” he said, looking down at his wound with a grim smile. “Once you’re bit, that's it. Nothing can save you, and your time is short. Mine is almost up. The least I can do is punch my clock." Drawing his weapon, he ejected the clip and handed it over before making sure there was a bullet in the chamber.  Picking up a nearby knife, he handed it to Claire.

"Tell the rookie for me. Don't hesitate and don't make my mistake.” Limping to a nearby door, he stopped and looked down at Sherry. “As you grow up, don't forget what happened here, but don't let it control you. Be kind, Sherry," Martin said, handing her a small taser with a smile. He then slowly walked towards the closed shutters and, flipping a switch, opened it, then walked towards the reception area.

Claire held Sherry to her tight as the young started to tremble. She knew what was happening and would never forget this. Nor would she forget the sound of the door closing and then—the gunshot. They held each for a minute, both internalizing this moment. Then came the pounding of the shutter as it was raised slightly.

"Wait here," Claire told Sherry as she rushed over, drawing her revolver. Seeing Leon trying to crawl through, she grabbed his hands and started to pull him out from under the shutter. Getting him out just in time as a pair of zombie hounds came biting and snapping at the duo. Firing her revolver one-handed, she blew out the offending bad brains clean from their skulls. Leon laid there, panting for a bit before looking up at Claire.

"And people wonder why I'm a cat person,” he joked with a grin causing Claire to respond in kind momentarily, forgetting where they were. It didn't last long before a massive undead hound riddled with tumors, and a giant red eye burst through the shutter. 

A rapid series of heavy gunshots echoed through the hall as .44 rounds blasted into the beast eye sending it flying into the corner. Claire and Leon, drawing his .50 cal, unloaded into mutant filling it with more holes than swiss cheese. 

Nem came walking over to then and with a vicious stomp squashed the Eye Dog's head flat. 

"Can you explain what's happening?" Leon asked Nem as he and Claire reloaded. He was tired of being left in the dark.

"Find…paper," he said, moving to the front desk as he placed the duffel bag on the counter. Just as he was about to start, he stopped and looked around. “Where….Martin?"

…

Ada watched the happenings through the monitors in Irons' secret room. So it isn't just zombies, but mutants running around this building. How lovely. Irons should be waiting in the garage for the girl. How sad for him she will be carrying a small knife on her, Ada thought, twirling a small karambit in her hands.  I should put a tracker on the girl just in case.  And I might need some muscles for the lab. As she thought this, she glanced at the Nemesis, who was comforting the girl, Sherry. Maybe not that much muscle. Then she turned her attention towards Leon. Well, hello there, cutie. 

"Now, just to wait. Wonder if that slob has anything to drink around here?” she mused out loud as she looked through some drawers. “Oh, Irons, a journal? What does someone like you think about?" Opening the journal to a random page, Ada began to read.  An instant later, the journal was on fire, and Ada had an expression of sheer disgust on her face. He dies tonight. No matter what. Ada Wong had seen and done a lot of messed up things tonight, but Irons was a special kind of fucked up.

…

Meanwhile, down below the station, in a pipe filled room, something was getting angry as it walked up a flight of stairs. Across town, a hunter waited for its enemy to show up, carefully watching a soldier move through the hospital.

Chapter Text

Thank you for your service, I think, as I lay the sheet over Marvin's body, Leon next to me, clutching the knife in his hands. We stood there for a minute, paying our respects before heading back into the hall. We walked in on Claire, loading bullets into the clips and guns while showing Sherry how a taser worked. She then started to put on the body armor I found in the STARS armory a similar one to Leons.

Leon and I moved towards the desk and began to load clips as well. All was silent for a minute as we processed what had been going on. As I looked at the small group I made a promise. They are getting out of here.

A few minutes later 

...loading the clip is the worst part of using a gun. Right next to getting shot by one, I came to realize as I loaded the seventh 9mm clip. We had been silent for a good bit, and now Sherry was sitting next to me, loading the shotgun rounds on a bandolier, her shiny new taser on her new belt.  I had dumped the rest of my shotgun belt and added them to the pile. Meanwhile, Claire and Leon were adding attachments to their guns. After having a strict process of who got what.

"...dibs shouldn't work on guns," Leon grumbled as he changed the stock on the shotgun while Claire did the same for her grenade launcher.

"I can tell you didn't have siblings growing up," Claire joked, the mood slightly better if you ignored the moaning outside and the slight smell of death in the air. She already claimed an MP5, grenade launcher, a high power Browning semi-auto pistol, grenades, and even the quick-draw revolver. At least she has taste.

"Claire, what's it like having a sibling?" Sherry asked Claire as she finished loading the spare shells. Claire paused at this and thought.

"It is like having someone who annoys the crap out of you and loves you unconditionally. Like the world's best and worst friend all rolled into one.,” she said, smiling slightly. “We lost our parents young, but we had each other. I remember  this one time, Chris and I decided we were going to turn an old station wagon into a homemade tank. We spent the entire summer building it. Keep in mind we were just about to enter middle school and we thought we knew it all. Grabbing scrap metal from wherever we could, trying to make our own fireworks, and a rotating turret made from an old lawnmower. We kept it stored in a shed behind where we lived. And we finally decided to test drive it. Long story short, Chris kept his hair short from then on. I keep my eyebrows away from fire. And we are still banned from that McDonalds." Sherry and Leon smiled at hearing this while Claire shed a small tear, very worried about her brother.

"Siblings..important," I said, leaning against the desk looking up.

"Oh. Do you have a sibling?" Claire asked, chambering a round in her guns. I tried not to cry; I did.

"I...did," I answered as a bloody tear rolled down my face. Sherry handed me a tissue as I wiped it away.

"What is your story anyway?" Leon asked, tightening the strap in his shotgun before putting it across his back. I knew this was coming.. Standing up I moved to the counter and grabbing a pen began to write. This is going to take a minute. Damn non-giant sized writing tools.

…

Claire watched the stereotypical gentle giant hunch over the desk. His blue eye was squinting in concentration as he tried to use the pen that looked so small in his hands. It seemed it was going to take a while.

"So Leon, where's our way out?" she asked the rookie cop, ready to get out of dodge. 

"Let's find out,” he replied, opening the leather book and then instantly frowning. “Well, this just went crappy," he said, placing the text on the desk for others to see.  Claire looked at the pages and frowned as well.

"We have to find three keys to unlock a hidden tunnel to the garage,” she said monotone as she had the urge to shoot the architect of this building. “Someone liked puzzles. And is an asshole. So we need to find three statues and put in a pattern for each."

"Well, there is one way up there,” Leon said as Sherry studied the journal over the counter before scampering to it. “Now we just need to find out where the other two are. Lovely. Maybe they are on the cameras?" he suggested to Claire, hoping to find a better alternative to searching the building with who knows what around the corners.

"Or we could go ask Irons? He should know the building," Claire said as Sherry came back and placed a circular key on the counter.

"Done with one,” Sherry said proudly with a child's smirk. “That was pretty easy."

"Done," Nem said, wiping his face of a blood tear while sliding the paper in front of them.  Then he just rested his face in his hands with a sigh. Leon picked up the paper and began to read. Each second, his face became angrier and angrier before he handed the page over to Claire and moved over to place a reassuring hand on Nem's shoulder.

"Chris told me Umbrella was bad. But this shit. This is just pure evil!" she hissed, nearly tearing the page from her anger.

"But my parents said they were doing good for the world?” Sherry mumbled, confused as she gripped her hands together. “Claire, did my parents cause this?" she asked, tears brimming in her eyes. Seeing this, Claire dropped to her knee and hugged her gently.

"Sherry, what your parents did isn't what you did. We are not responsible for the mess our families make. What we are responsible for is ourselves and how we handle it,” Claire said, her voice firm as Sherry clutched her close. Releasing her, Claire took off her jacket and handed it to Sherry. “Sherry, this is the lucky jacket that my brother got for me. I want you to have it and remember. Don't give up. Never give up,” she said with a smile as Sherry took the jacket with a nod, wiping her tears. All of a sudden, a substantial hand rubbed her head with all the gentleness of a cloud.

"Good person,” Nem said as he helped her put the jacket on. “Sherry..watch Claire." He leaned over and said in a loud whisper. “Accident...prone."  Hearing this, Sherry and Leon both laughed while Claire pouted.

"I will have you know I only have seven crashes to my….okay, that's fair,” she admitted, looking as she rubbed her nose, hiding a smile. Standing up, Nem turned to Leon.

"See Irons," Nem said, moving to the doors.

"That's a good idea. I have a few first-day complaints,” he said, cocking his shotgun as we went to see his boss. Soon to be ex-boss.

…

"Ring-a-ring-a-roses,” Mr. Y sang softly to himself as he mixed a precise blend of chemicals in the custodial office at a small station. It boggles my mind what people put in cleaning products. My word I could kill a small city with these chemicals. I think I did at one point, Mr. Y thought to himself as he added just a hint of Lysol to the green compound in a bucket, causing it to bubble. “And now for the finishing touch,” he said, taking off a glove to reveal a deathly pale hand with black veins running through it. A shout came from the door

"Mr. Y, by an executive decision of Umbrella High Office, you are to surrender yourself for volunteering! You have until the count of five!" As they said this, the sound of rifles being readied came.

"One moment, please. This is a very delicate step,” he said, utterly unconcerned with them. Taking a small box cutter off a nearby shelf, he cut his palm. Black blood dripped into the concoction. In an instant, it began to bubble like mad as purple steam flowed out, under the door, and into the ducts as well.

Moving out of the front of the door, Mr. Y leaned against the door and sealed his wound shut with a tube of superglue.

"Aw, removing my sense of pain was a wonderful modification,” he said to himself as violent coughing began to sound before the security team opened fire, destroying the door. Mr. Y merely hummed to himself as the firing came to a stop. Walking through the door, he watched as the security team curled up on the floor as blood leaked from every orifice they had. Their coughing so violent it dislocated their jaws. Aw, the wonders of science. Oh dear, one of them is still alive.

"A pocket full of posies,” he said, leaning down, so the leader's dying face was reflected in his visor. Black spots decorated his now grayish skin.“Hush, hush, hush, hush, you're all tumbled down,” he finished as the leader died. Standing up, he put his glove back on and began to think. 

By now, the chemical should have spread to the entire compound. Let's salvage what data we can and move to greener pastures. I wonder if that Saddler is open to a… joint project. As he thought this, Mr. Y made his way to data banks. He was humming all the while—a small man leaving a broad trail of death behind him.

…

Oswald E. Spencer watched all this on his monitor with a sour expression.

"Oh, Mr. Y, if only you could have learned to follow orders. Oh, well,” he said with a sigh before picking up a bell and shaking it. In a moment, a large, stocky built man in  formal military attire walked in.

"Yes, Lord Spencer?" he asked in a slight Russian accent as he stood at attention.

"Put a bounty out on Mr. Y, Sergei. Ten million should do it. Fifteen if brought in alive. Also, send in a strike team and then a cleanup crew,” he said off hand as he took his medicine with a sip of wine. “How are things progressing in Raccoon City? By now, our politicians should be prepping the missile."

"Sir, it is just a matter of time at this point,” Sergei responded, his back like an iron rod. Looking at his most loyal attendant, Oswald gave a small smile. 

"Sergei, you may ask,” he said, taking another sip as he looked out the window at his estate— what a lovely sunrise.

"Is it true, sir?” he asked, looking at his commander. “Is Alphase inside the Nemesis?"

"Yes. The prodigal son now has the body to match his spirit. I wonder if he should thank you partly for that,” he said, smiling at the memories and the joke. “Such a shame such pesky trait-like morals still bind him."   Sergei's face was an unreadable mask as he remained at attention.

"The testing animal we picked up in Africa has become such a large beast,” Oswald continued, never looking away from the view. “But then he was always special. After all,” he started to say as he turned to look at the dried flower on the wall, “nature seemed to love him."

…

God, I am starting to love this shield, I thought as I slammed a zombie dog against the wall with the riot shield leaving a red smear. I had left the bag of toys with the girls in case of an emergency. I did leave a giant hole in the wall.  

With me in front and Leon covering me with the shotgun, we found ourselves in front of Iron's office.

"Should I knock?" Leon asked, moving to the side of the door.

"Let..me," I said, slamming one massive fist against the door sending it flying off the hinges into the opposite wall.

"...you know the door was unlocked?" a strangely familiar voice said from inside the room. Leon moved in and trained his shotgun on the speaker while I sipped a wine glass of coke at the ridiculously expensive nightclub outside Paris. You figure they could afford a bigger lounge.

"Sir, will you be ordering any wine or alcohol this evening?" the bartender asked me, glowering at me in his cheap suit. I simply took a small cigar out of my coat pocket and placed it in my mouth. I was noticing all the other patrons talking and their full glasses of wine from the mirror in front of me. And I couldn't help but see the lady next to me doing the same.

"No, thank you. But I will take a roast beef sandwich with toasted bread, tomato, just a dab of hot sauce. And God help you if there is a single pickle in there," I said, placing a wad of hundreds in his breast pocket. His attitude did a complete 180.

"Yes, sir!" he said with a massive smile as he hurried to the kitchen to fill my order. Giving a small laugh about how paper affects people, I took out a rather large lighter and lit my cigar. 

"So, are they here for you or me?" I asked the Asian beauty in the red dress next to me. Taking a sip of my coke and enjoying how the tobacco mixed with it. Toying with the lighter in my hands, I gave her a small grin.

"I suspect both of us, judging by their glances,” she said, stirring a martini glass full of water. “I swear it is a wonder how people with such poor skills find work."

"There will always be cheap people,” I said, downing the last of my coke as I flicked my cigar. “My name is Bond, by the way. James Bond," I said, pausing between the names in a fake accent. She gave a small smile before replying.

"Carmen. Carmen Sandiego,” she said, one hand on her glass while the other was out of view. 

"So this is where in the world you are,” I said with a small laugh that caused the people behind us to go quiet for a minute before resuming. “Very well, Miss Sandiego. What do you say to an impromptu duet till we are out of the building?"

"And how do you know I am not with them?" she asked, downing the last of her water. The people behind started to move their hands close to the underside of their tables.

"Instincts. I learned a long time ago to trust them,” I said, looking at myself in the mirror, marveling slightly at the flesh mask I stole from Umbrella. That and a wig made sure they never knew who I was. “It was a… painful lesson. But I digress. Shall we start this dance, Miss Sandiego?" I asked, pressing down on the bottom of my lighter causing it to start ticking.

"Please call me, Carmen. And by all means," Carmen said, reaching her purse and cocking the 9mm. In an instant, I tossed the lighter behind us as Carmen and I vaulted over the bar. Automatic fire peppered the bar as bullets failed to penetrate the thick oak. Drawing a .45 from my belt, I waited. Carmen was next to me with her pistol at the ready, keeping one eye on me.

"3,2, and chaos," I said as the lighter exploded, sending people falling to the ground, either dead or in shock. Gripping the pistol with both hands, I was up and firing. Each bullet finds a chest or head, showing long hours of training. Carmen did the same next to me before tossing a wine bottle behind an overturned table, firing at it.

"My eyes!" one of our attackers shouted as glass shards fell into his eyes, causing him to panic and rise only to crumple with a .45 and 9mm in his heart. Double-tapping any limbs or body parts to make sure people weren't faking, I quickly ejected my mag and was about to reload when I saw it. Grabbing an ice pick, I hurled it right by Carmen's face, who instantly turned and shot at me. 

The world slowed to a crawl as I watched the bullet right next to my eye, the ice pick piercing the gunman's head as he appeared from the kitchen, his last act to fire into the ceiling. Twisting my head so fast it sent me spinning the bullet passed right over me. I sat there for a minute before hopping to my feet.

"I have dodged a lot of bullets, but I can safely say that is the first time I literally did it," I said, placing my gun back with a sigh as I turned to Carmen. Who was giving me a very wide-eyed look?

"Who are you?" she asked me as I found myself back in Iron’s Office. Carmen was standing in front of me while Leon covered the door. 

"He's Nem. Nem, meet Ada Wong. She is an FBI Agent sent to investigate here," Leon said as he fired a round into a zombie walking down the stairs.

And I am a secret superhero sent to save the world from a dying planet; I thought as I looked down at the very dangerous woman. But at the moment, I shouldn't call her out just yet. Not till I know who she is currently working for. Let's keep an eye on her for now.

"So I was always curious what a flashback looked like in real life," Ada said, leaning forward with a grin before she frowned as she met my eye. “...do I know you?" Before I could answer, a loud thud came from upstairs.

"And what fresh shit is that?" Leon asked, reloading his shotgun as the sound came closer to the stairs. Moving to the door, I leaned my head out and watched the stairs as I felt the tingle.

"Trouble," I said, narrowing my eye. Then a loud crash came resounding through the hall.

"Gonna guess that's the same kind of shit," Ada said, staying a safe distance from the door while drawing her 9mm. Before we could wonder about the new sound, a large pair of boots appeared on the steps. Then I heard it; a child's scream. 

Sherry!

Chapter Text

"Claire, why are you playing with clay?" Sherry asked as they sat at the desk after barricading the hole in the shutter and closing the other one. Claire's jacket was a little bit too big on her small frame.

"Oh, this isn't clay, Sherry. It's C4,” Claire explained, being extra careful as she put the explosive device together. Some brothers teach their sister to drive a car; mine taught me how to make explosives.” 'It is highly sensitive and very dangerous in the hands of the untrained. And right now, I am making a bomb out of it. Sherry, never let this anywhere near fire or electricity. It will make a big boom."

"I understand,” she said before frowning slightly. “Claire, does Nem hate me?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"No, sweetie, of course not,” Claire said, putting the C4 in the bag and holding Sherry's hand. 'Why would you think that?"

"My parents worked for Umbrella. They said they were doing important work,” she said, looking down at the table. “Do you think they are responsible for Nem being like that?"  Claire just smiled gently as she rubbed Sherry's hands.

"Sherry. Nem does not blame you at all. And even if they did, he wouldn't hold it against you. You don't blame the children for the parent's problems. Does Nem seem like he would hate you?” Sherry just shook her head no. “There you go. Now let's.." Only then, Claire felt a tremble in the ground, and a loud banging sound could be heard from around the statue.

"Wait here," Claire told her, grabbing the MP5 and moving slowly up the steps. Flicking on the laser sight, she moved forward and heard the banging even louder. Moving forward slowly, she placed a hand on the floor around the statue. A pounding could be felt from the ground.

What the hell? A massive crack appeared on the floor. Claire quickly moved back with her submachine gun at the ready. All her firearms were in easy reach, as well as extra clips. That didn't help the dread she felt as the crack got bigger and bigger before it stopped. 

Run! Claire immediately turned and vaulted over the railing pulling Sherry down to hide as chunks of the floor exploded outward. Demolishing nearby furniture and creating a large cloud of dust.

"Sherry!" A voice like that of the damned erupted out of William Birkin as he... or whatever it was... stumbled out of the tunnel it had clawed out of. 

Oh, dear god, what the fuck? Claire mentally screamed as she gazed at his mutated form from behind the railing. Half his body was now a mess of bloody muscles and growths. Bit of bones stuck out of his right shoulder as a large yellow eye looked everywhere. The same growths covered the legs, making its body and left arm nearly dwarfed by comparison.  As it stepped out of the hole and cracked the ground with its strength, a moan echoed from its human mouth.

"Please stop, dad," Sherry whispered. Hearing this, Birkin snapped toward her and rushed at the duo groaning. Blood and fluid were seeming to leak from his shredded skin.

"Sherry, move!"  Claire shouted, grabbing Sherry and the bag diving out from behind the desk as Birkin came crashing down. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, Claire drew and fired her Browning. Sherry behind her as they backed up to the stairs. 

The bullets had little to no effect as despite where they hit, the wounds closed almost instantly. It stumbled after them, its body jerking and spasming as the virus continued its work, it’s body twisting under its skin.  She kept firing until one round found its way into the giant eye in its shoulder.

Birkin howled in pain as it backed up in shock as it's eye quickly reformed. Of course, it's the giant eye! Claire chastised herself as she related, letting go of Sherry to reload. Claire heard a door being broken above her.

Taking a risk, Claire looked up and saw undead shuffling in towards the railing. Smelling the girls, one of them walked against the edge and tumbled over. Raising her gun, Birkin temporarily forgot, she fired on it but only managed to wing it before it fell on Claire. 

She got her arm-guard up in time to block the bite. Thankful for the protection, she brought up her Browning and snarled.

"No biting!" she shouted as she pressed the barrel against the zombie's temple. Just then, she saw a tongue of some kind flash over them, and then she heard the scream.

"Sherry!"

…

Ada Wong was used to things going wrong during assignments. But as she heard the scream and watched the Tyrant walk down the stairs outside the office, she had a simple thought.

The plan might be out the window. Next thing Ada knew she and Leon were hauled back into the room as the Nemesis tossed bookcases and furniture against the wall and opening, making a barricade in seconds before moving to the middle of the room. On instinct, Ada was about to fire on the Nemesis, thinking it was attacking when she saw its eye. Or, more importantly, the fury in the eye that seemed to burn like a blue fire.

Raising both arms high above its head as it stood in the middle of the room, it began to destroy the floor. Tremors shook the office as each blow caved in wood and stone. Both cracking like glass under its power. As it did this, Mr. X pummeled at the furniture blocking the wall. And just when the Tyrant seemed like it was about to break through, the Nemesis looked at the duo.

"Brace and follow,” it said, and with a brutal stomp, made a massive hole in the floor. It fell down the hole and started running—the sounds of walls breaking in its charge back to the main hall. 

"Ladies first," Leon said, firing a Steel Boy round at a gloved arm breaking through the bookcase.

"What a gentleman,” she said as she hopped down the hole and followed the destruction. Leon followed down behind her but not before tossing a flashbang and a grenade back into the room.

Well, I have to give Umbrellas this. They can make monsters. Ada thought as she went through a hole the Nemesis had made. Drawing her 9mm, Ada walked and found pure chaos.

 The Nemesis was fighting what looked to be a mutated William Birkin.  Its massive fist was like a sledgehammer as it went to work with all the skill of an expert fighter. Each blow sent it flying back as the blows echoed with force. Oh, Birkin tried to fight back, but it was way beyond its weight class against a modified Tyrant. Avoiding that. Where is the girl? Ada wondered, looking around to see  Sherry, hacking and coughing up a storm as the brunette was currently protecting her near the statue, the duffel bag near her. She was presently firing into a horde of zombies entering from the second floor.

Make first impressions, Ada thought as she moved towards the girls, firing with expert marksmanship. The Burnette gave Ada a quick nod as she picked up a grenade launcher and fired it into the group.  Next time I bring a machine pistol. Just then, Leon came flying in from the hole his shotgun bent in half after using it as a makeshift shield.

"We gotta move,” he groaned, rising to his feet as he drew his sidearm and fired at the approaching mass from the hole. Ada heard a snarl sound behind her as she quickly turned and saw a weight of teeth inches from her face.

"Carmen down!" Nem's raspy voice shouted out as a metal shield slammed into the Licker's body, sending it flying into the statue, shattering its spine. Ada quickly unloaded half her clip into its brain. Meanwhile, the Nemesis had grabbed Birkin and tossed him through the shutters on the left before moving to the Tyrant that had just stepped through the hole.

"We gotta move people!' Leon shouted, firing on a trio of Lickers had just come on the opposite side, crawling along the wall. Roaring and hissing at the noise. “In the hole!"  The brunette quickly helped Sherry to the opening.

"Down the hole, sweetie, I’m right behind you,” she said as she opened the bag and brought out... C4?!

"Hey, guys. Hurry up; you only got a few minutes. If I did this right,” she mumbled that last part as she set it next to the statue, then grabbing the bag hurried down the hole. That's reassuring.

"Ada, you’re next," Leon said, ducking under a leaping Licker. He unloaded his 9mm into it as it slid away.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Ada said, going down the hole and moving quickly down the man-sized tunnel gun at the ready. But as she ran, she paused and turned back. Ada Wong forgot where she was like her mind directed back to...those days. And for the first time in forever, the woman with many names was scared.

Did he just call me... No...please. Let me have misheard. 

…

I have terrible luck with buildings!  I thought as I grabbed the Tyrant by the legs and tossed it at the Lickers, sending them all crashing through the wall. Drawing my Mare, I fired at the mix of zombies and Licker Zombies marching through the hole I made in the wall.

"Nem, we gotta go!" Leon shouted as he tossed a grenade before moving down the hole. The C4 charge was ticking down next to the statue. Firing at both sides, I grabbed the shield with a tentacle and made my way down the tunnel practically bent over due to my height as even my shoulder barely fit.

Hearing scratching behind me, I turned and braced myself as Eye Dogs and zombie Dogs launched themselves at the metal riot shield, biting and snarling as they tried to get by me in the narrow tunnel. Holstering my Mare, I formed a claw with my left hand and swiped at the ceiling above them, causing the roof to start to crumble.

"Time to go!" I shouted at Leon as I slammed my shield against the group into the falling rocks. Leon was running in front of me as the hole started to collapse. 

Maybe Claire made the bomb wrong. I thought as a massive boom echoed through the hole. And perhaps I need to learn to shut up!  Picking up speed, I tossed the shield over my back as I grabbed Leon by the back of his body armor and went as fast as I could.

In an instant, we found ourselves on some stone stairs leading down. Giving a small jump, I cleared the stair just as debris and dust shot out of the hole with the force of a cannon. As I landed on the metal walkway, it dented under my weight, but thankfully, it was still holding. 

"Please set me down, Nem," Leon said, his face almost sickly green as I held him a few feet off the ground.   We had ended up in what looked like a massive boiler room.

"My..bad," I said, setting him down as he stumbled around slightly before catching the rails. I patted his back slightly idly, noticing it covered it.

"Naw. Dizzy is better than dead,” he said, waving me off. “Think those two are dead?" he asked, looking up the stairs as the dust settled from the collapsed hole.

"Nope," I said, narrowing my eye as I reloaded my Mare before holstering, idly cleaning off Jill's badge as I did. I need it to be friendly and shiny when I give it back. Please let me give it back.

"Bud, next time, lie to me,” he said as he reloaded his guns as we walked into a nearby office. The girls were visible through the glass. “Time to have a little team meeting." 

Walking into the office, I swear to God I'll find a house where every doorway is going to be massive , Claire was giving Sherry a drink from a water bottle. Carmen, I mean Ada, was reloading in the corner, her eyes flashed towards me for a minute. She remembered what I called her. ...I hate my big mouth.  

"You okay?" I asked, moving over kneeling by Sherry. Her skin was getting pale, and her eyes looked weak. Placing a finger on her forehead, I checked her temperature. She was getting warmer by the second.

"I'll..be fine," Sherry said, giving a small smile that only made me worry more. When I barrelled into the room, I saw Birkin imitating a Krawler, and all I felt was the rage as I tried to beat him to death.

"We need to take her to see her mother, Annette,” Ada said, placing her .357 back into her pocket. “She can help Sherry, and I can get the info, my people need."

"And where is she at?” Leon asked, putting together an M16 from the duffel bag. “Shotguns are nice, but an assault rifle should have been my go-to." 

"Somewhere in the sewers,” Ada answered, moving to the panel and pressing some levers to make a bridge across for us. “There should be a journalist in the holding cells around the parking lot. He should know the way to NEST." 

"So we have a plan," Leon said, slamming a clip into the rifle as he chambered a round.

"Can you walk, sweetie?" Claire asked Sherry, who gave a little nod before grabbing her hand. One of her hands stayed near the taser Marvin gave her.

"Go, team,” Ada said with a smirk on her face. 'Leon should take point with the rifle. Claire, hope that's your name, with Sherry in the middle. While I and the big..man take the rear."  We all gave a small nod as we moved into position. But as we left the room, Ada turned to me and waited a minute for the others to be a but before she said something odd.

"...I'm sorry," Ada quickly whispered, her eyes showing genuine emotions before her mask was back on. Just as quickly, she promptly moved back with the others.

...for what?

…

In the rubble that used to be the main hall of the RIPD, a cloud of dust appeared. What remained of William Birkin rose, his body twisting and turning on itself as the G-Virus further mutated itself. All the damage from the Nemesis causing the mutations to rapidly advance.

"She..rry." Its voice a deep hoarse tone as it's human head seemed to be pushed into its body as the face of the G-Virus grew in its place. Birkin stumbled forward all the while, before pausing as some stone and plaster moved nearby. 

Moving over, it looked down at Mr. X, pipes and shrapnel piercing its body. Mr. X struggled even further upon seeing Birkin, desperate to carry out its mission to kill. Birkin stood there looking down before it reared back it's head and a long skinny tentacle erupted from its mouth.

Using it's still human arm, it pried open the Tyrant's mouth and bent over. The virus searched for more hosts for its deadly self to spread. It had found one perfect host but it needed more. And this was born an unholy union.

…

Carlos moved with practiced ease down the hospital hallway. A sense of panic deep inside him as one thought echoed through his mind.

Where the fuck are all the zombies and mutants?! He had secured the hospital looking for the cure for super cop and every time he thought he found something to shoot there were just bits of limbs and blood. All was quiet but every now then an odd shadow appeared in the courtyard. What the fuck is eating them? And...why hasn't it tried to eat me. 

…

More meat. More power. More sweetmeat. But wait. Wait for the prize. Smell him on the others. He will be here. Let HIM COME. LET HIM SEE! LET HIM BE AFRAID!! LET ME FEED!!

Chapter Text

"Where is that bitch?" Irons asked himself as he hunkered down in a police car near the exit shutters. His revolver was shaking in his hands as he watched a zombie dog shuffle by. Half its face and body was torn, revealing rotting meat and bone. Drool, and infected blood dripped from its cheekless mouths. Irons found himself very thankful for those prisoners he had kept down here. They made an excellent distraction for him to get here.

Maybe I will get lucky, and that bitch will get herself killed, getting rid of these dogs. Then, while they are chewing on some Asian take out, I can grab the girl and run. As Iron's mind pictured Ada's body being ripped to pieces by the undead, a disgusting grin appeared on his face. I need to visit my workshop after this. Maybe have some alone time with Katherine before I get out. Shame I can't take her with me.

The sounds of the maintenance hole cover being moved shook Irons out of his sick fantasy as well as ringing a dinner bell for the zombie dogs. They snarled and barked as they made a mad dash towards the sound. For a moment, Irons grinned, peaking over the back seat of the cruiser. Only for that grin to vanish in an instant as assault rifle rounds tore into the dogs. It turned them into chunks in an instant.

All was quiet for a minute before he heard a voice sound out.

"All clear," Leon shouted as he climbed out of the hole. Standing up, he scanned the parking lot; Irons ducked down, drawing his pistol. Now just take out the rookie, and then Ada will bring the girl up.  Irons aimed the gun at the back of Leon's head. Drawing back the hammer, he grinned.

I do love the moment before the kill.

…

"I am gonna toss-up the bag first," Claire said up to Leon as we stood nearby. Sherry was leaning against my leg, sweat starting to pour down her face as she turned green. We need to hurry. “You ready?"

"Here," Leon said, kneeling to grab the bag. The next instant, a heavy gunshot sounded as I saw his hair ruffled by the bullet passing directly. Not hesitating, Leon rolled into the holes as I sprang forward and caught him. Ada was there in a flash, holding Sherry as I moved, so she didn't fall. Relaxing my arms, I saw Leon and placed him next to me.

"Shooter. Directly behind me," Leon informed me quickly. Nodding, I bent my knees, and using all I had, jumped the ten-foot ladder climb and was in the parking lot. Crossing my arms, I charged the parked police car feeling the heavy slugs hit my coat before sinking slightly into my arms. 

Grabbing the back of the car, I gave a massive heave as with a roar, I flipped the car upside down and watched as it slammed into the ground. I heard a gargled cry of pain come out as broken metal and glass entered the cab from the crushed roof. Moving forward, I ripped the door off and grabbed a leg, then yanked the shooter out of the destroyed vehicle, none too gently. 

Going to guess this is Irons. As I held the short, ugly man in ruined clothes, bits of glass stuck out of his mouth as the skin around his cheeks was nearly ripped off. Bits of teeth and blood spilled from the mouth.  And that's a broken jaw with damaged teeth.  I formed a claw with my hand and was about to see if I could cut his head off with one swipe when I saw the fear in his eyes. He was looking at a monster.

...we are not a monster. I thought, dropping him to the ground. The second he landed, he tried to get away, desperately crawling on the floor. Nope. I quickly placed one large foot on his leg and gently pressed. The fact it snapped was due to him having brittle bones. Not a monster. But slightly vindictive.

"Clear," I called out, keeping my eye and foot on Irons. Left hand resting on my Mare as I kept clenching and unclenching my right. Ears, I had them somewhere, open for any undead or mutants.

In seconds Leon was helping the others up, an assault rifle slung over his shoulder. Ready to act at a moment's notice. Sherry was the next up, and she was looking worse.  

"Move. Die," I said, looking down at Irons before moving over to Sherry. Before I even took one step, she was falling. Stretching out my hand, I caught her before she hit the ground, my hand covering her entire back.

"Sherry!'  Claire shouted as she climbed up with Ada right behind her. Taking Sherry from my hand, she held her close as a faint red mark appeared near her eye. Placing a hand on her forehead, she frowned at the heat. “She’s burning up."

"Where is the journalist?” Leon asked, keeping his rifle trained on Irons.

"He should be on the other side of that wall,” Ada said, pointing at the wall on the other side of some wrecked vehicles.

Everybody looked at the wall, then back at me, and I gave a quick nod.

"Be..back." And I was speed-slasher walking forward as fast as I could. Cars were knocked aside as I crossed my arms and leaped forward slightly. Crashing through the concrete wall, I ignored the pain that came with it. The zombies were somewhat more annoying.

...

"Gotta love someone who takes a direct approach,” Ada said as she moved towards Irons. Better keep to my part. And enjoy this. “Brian Irons, you are under arrest." Kneeling, she roughly grabbed his arms and, ripping the tie off his neck, bound them behind his mouth. Snarls and broken mutters erupted from his shattered mouth as he struggled in vain. Not so tough against a conscious woman.

"Now we just need to wait for the informant, and we can get Sherry to Annette. She can help her,” she said as she looked at the young girl barely conscious in Claire's arms.

"Who's this Annette anyway?" Claire asked as she poured a small sip of water into Sherry's mouth. She was slowly drinking it more on reflex than actual intent. Worry was clear on Claire's face as she looked at the sweat on Sherry's face.

"According to my sources, a top researcher at NEST.” She already found out they knew about Umbrella, so she decided to share info. Well, information that wouldn't backfire or reveal herself. “And Sherry's mother." That last part made the duo pause. Both of them were thankful for Sherry being deaf to the world at the moment.

"So while her daughter is possibly being chased by monsters and stuck all alone in a veritable hell, she is safe in a high tech laboratory?" Claire asked, feeling Sherry's forehead as it got slowly warmer while her anger got hotter.

"Never said she was a good mother," Ada said, turning back to the hole and watching Nem come back through, dragging a cage door behind him and a man on his shoulder. Jamming the cage door against the spot, he quickly moved a car in front of it, blocking it.

"This him?" Nem asked, setting him down near the flipped car. Leon looked away from Iron at the journalist, and looking at him had one question.

"Why is he unconscious?" he asked as Nem just sighed and gestured at himself. “...sorry, man." Ada stepped forward and slapped the reporter awake.

"What the hell?!” he said, looking around and seeing Nem, he began to panic, fear apparent on his face. “Oh shit, they did send a monster to kill me!"

"Oh Ben, don't worry about him. I might think I don't mean anything to you,” Ada said, kneeling with a small smirk. Ben turned and looked at the Asian woman with eyes still wide in fear.

"Who...who are you?” he asked, voice shaking as he adjusted his glasses. His hand trembled as he kept one eye on Nem, who moved over near Sherry. Then he saw Irons bound and bloody on the floor. “...well, that made my day a whole lot better."

"You can thank the big guy over there for that. Now I have some questions? Do you know where NEST is?" she asked eyes, never breaking from his. 

"Why do you wanna know that?' Ben asked, getting to his feet and saw Sherry being held up by Claire. “And what's wrong with her?"

"She is why we need to find NEST,” Claire said as Nem carefully picked Sherry up and held her gently. “It is her only hope." Ben was quiet for a long minute as he looked around before scratching his head before giving a loud sigh. 

"Damn my morals. Is he going to eat me?' he asked, pointing at Nem. “And are we taking the pervert?" He gave Irons a stern look.

"No, Nem won't eat you,” Leon said, eyeing the zombies trying to get through the bars. "They will, though. And we aren't taking Irons. But I say we leave him a weapon at least."

"..fine. Still a perfect chance of him being eaten alive, so that's a happy thought," Ben said as he stood up. “But I only know part of the way. I was investigating rumors of an underground lab that was near the sink hole. Before I could find it though, Irons had me arrested. On false charges,” he said, giving Irons broken leg a swift kick. The former Chief of Police issued a muffled cry of pain as he began to struggle, though that only caused him more pain from his injuries. 

"Then lead us where you can. Some of the way is better than no way at all," Ada said, standing up and moving over to Iron. "Sure we don't wanna just shoot him? Might be more merciful." And cover up a loose end. She said silently to herself.

"No," Nem said, his voice like gravel as he grabbed the duffel bag and pulled out a knife. Moving to stand in front of Iron, he kneeled and bent over, his face inches from Irons, his eye burning with blue fire as he stared into Irons’ as he trembled with fear. Bringing the knife forward, he rested the edge against the former Chief of Police's face. The sharp steel is cut into the skin slightly, causing even more blood to flow. 

"One chance," Nem growled out. He was putting as much gravel as he could into his voice. A smell of ammonia began to emanate from Irons's lower region. "Do not follow." And with that, Nem dropped the knife on the ground. Picking up Sherry gently from Claire's arms, he walked toward the closed security gate.

"Oh, by the way. I quit. Hazardous work conditions, terrible boss, usual reasons," Leon said down to Irons as he moved after Nem. The rest of the group followed behind. Ada gave Irons a quick look back as a smirk appeared on her face. Then Claire stopped right beside him

"So, on behalf of my brother, fuck you," Claire said, kicking the knife near the maintenance hole they crawled out of. "On behalf of Marvin, fuck off." As she reared back and made her best attempt at a field goal kick between Irons' legs. 

His moans of pains made everyone feel a bit happier.

…

Albert Wesker was very unhappy at this moment. Right now, all his eggs were in one basket, and that was a prospect a man like him did not like at all. Thankfully, his basket was very sturdy and smart.

Well, smart enough to not betray me, while also capable of getting the job done, Wesley thought as he sat in his custom leather chair. Sunglasses reflecting various monitor feeds throughout the city. He honestly didn't expect her to be able to kill Alphase. Or make an attempt to. 

The Nemesis was designed to be the culmination of decades of experiments and research. Unless she somehow found a rocket launcher lying around, he had severe doubts about Ada even putting a dent into it. Plus, it seemed to have a healing factor.

And of all people he had to be the one in possession of it. How...vexing, Wesker thought with a small animalistic growl. But a thermobaric missile will solve all my problems. Hopefully, Miss Wong can get a sample from Alphase. The tranq should work on its thick skin. 

Wesley wasn't worried about Ada being killed by his once-brother. Because despite all Lord Spencer said, despite his genes, and despite his current form, he was too weak to kill someone he called friend. If only he knew what that friend did.

Just then, his new phone started to ring from the corner of his desk, causing Albert to narrow his eyes. 

"Who is disturbing me?" he asked as he brought the receiver to his ear.

"Oh now, Albert. Does a father need a reason to call his son?" Lord Spencer chided his adopted son over the phone. 

"No, Lord Spencer. I would just hate to waste the time of a man like you," Wesker said, keeping his tone respectful. He still needed to play the role of the good son. For now at least.

"Oh, family can never waste my time. I am in a joyous mood today. My long lost son returned from the dead and back in my folds,” he said with a slight laugh, followed by a coughing fit. Wesley briefly wished Spencer would choke to death at this moment so that he could hear it.  But alas the dream wasn't meant to be as the fit ended quickly.

"I hate to ruin your mood Lord Spencer, but he shall soon be dead again," Wesley said, slightly smiling as he spoke. "After all, a city-leveling missile can kill anything."

"Funny, people say the same thing about being stabbed through the chest by a Tyrant," Spencer replied, erasing the smile from Wesker's face in a flash. "But the reason why I am calling. When your agent has collected a sample of Alphase, you will provide me some. I will allow you to keep the G-Virus, though. For a time." 

To say Wesker was surprised was an understatement. But he forced himself to stay calm, not showing any weakness despite the fact Lord Spencer wasn't even in the room.

"I have been playing this game far longer than you have, Albert. You have gotten good, but I am experienced. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't be happier," Spencer said with a smile in his voice. "You're finally trying to fly on your own wings. Granted, those wings were my gift to you. But still you’re flying, and I couldn't be happier. Just be careful, son. We don't want those wings to melt. After all, falling can be… painful. Ask your brother." 

And with that, the line went dead. Wesker was almost dead calm as he placed the phone back on the hook before resting his open hands on his desk. Slowly he began to flex his fingers, carving deep gouges in the wood as he did. 

When he dies, I am personally grinding his body into a paste, Wesker vowed as crimson eyes burned behind his shades.

…

"So we go through the gun shop, and there is a path leading down to the sinkhole. Then a little sewer crawl to the monster factory," Ben said from the middle of the group. He had volunteered to carry Sherry for me. Having no experience with firearms he felt it best not to take one. However, he did put a small can of mace in his pocket.

"Hate sewers," I said, growling as I looked down at his grime and filth covered bare feet. Please, God, let there be a walkway. Or at least quadruple X sized shoes somewhere.  I kept an eye out near the street lamp as the dead shambled towards us; thankfully they were still a reasonable distance away. Even didn't stop me from resting a hand on my Mare., keenly aware of Ben within arm reach.

"Door’s locked," Leon said as he tried the knob.

"Pardon me," Ada said, moving forward and starting to pick the lock.  "So, Ex-Officer Kennedy, what made you be a cop? Did you want to save the world or just liked the uniform?" 

"I became a cop to help people and try to do a little good in the world,” he said, looking down at Ada. For the briefest of moments, Ada's mask broke, and her hands paused before fixing itself, and she resumed working on the lock.

"Word of advice. Don't. This world has destroyed too many people who only wanted to do good. It doesn't deserve heroes,” Ada said with steel in her voice as she opened the door.  Leon gave her a long look before Claire spoke up from near the pit.

"If you think that, then why are you here?" she asked, her machine pistol firm in her hands.

"Because I have a job to do," Ada replied as she stepped into the building. "And I finish my jobs."

That's when we heard a shotgun round being chambered from inside the shop.

Chapter Text

"Get out,” a voice said from behind a barricade as a shotgun peeked through a gap, aimed right between Ada and Leon, giving the shooter an equal chance to end both of them if the spread was wide enough.

"Sir, please, we just want to pass through," Leon said, keeping his hands off his rifle as Ada slightly raised her own. Clare moved near the side of the door, crouching low and keeping near the ground. I moved over near the other side of the door and held up a hand to stop her. I positioned myself, so he would notice my shadow and hopefully point the gun away from the two inside.

"I don't give a damn what you won't just get the fuck….WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" the voice asked as my shadow appeared in front of the door. Taking a chance, I called out, trying to make my voice smooth as I took off my Marre gunbelt and held it up. I was keeping my body behind the door so as not to provoke him.  Ben was right behind me as he kept an eye on the undead in the distance.

"Jill's friend," I said, my voice more sandpaper and less gravel. At least to me. I saw Carmen slowly move her hands down the gunmen, unaware.

"...how the fuck did you get that gun and badge?!" the shooter asked, moving his gun over and pointing at the outstretched hand. In an instant, Carmen went for her weapon, but despite her fast hands, she wasn't fast enough. As the gun barrel moved towards Carmen, I started to move, but someone was quicker.

"Ada, down!" Leon shouted as he tackled Carmen to the ground blocking the shotgun round with the back of his vest.

Rushing forwards, I slammed my shield in front of the duo, ignoring the fact I broke the doorway and the ground as I ran in. I distinctly felt the shotgun round hit me square in the chest, causing me to grunt slightly. Grabbing the barrel with my tentacle, I ripped it out of his hands as I destroyed the barricade with the other hand.

"You won't hurt my daughter!" the man who I assumed was Kendo shouted at me as he drew his Colt. 45. In response, I use my tentacle to wrap him tight. This doesn't stop him from angling his pistol and unloading it onto my chest.

In a matter of seconds, his gun clicks empty. My body is already pushing out the shotgun pellets and bullets— of course with his arms bound like that he can't reload so there that. Wait a minute. Daughter?

Turning my head, I see a terrible thing. A little girl who seemed a mere moment from becoming a monster. Her skin was deathly pale as sick veins stood out against it. Damn you, Umbrella. Damn you. I think to myself as I start to draw my gun. Aware of the man screaming at me and the others walking in.

"Daddy…" I hear the little girl, moan. Hearing this made me halt my movements.

The chance to save the girl is high.  What?

The girl has not entirely fallen to the virus, as evidenced by the fact she has yet to attack the male. And she still has displays of intelligence.

Why the hell didn't you tell me this for Marvin?!

Chance was too low to give as a viable option. Also, bite wounds carry a more potent strain of the virus. The girl seems to have been infected via other means. 

It was around this time the others came inside.

"Nem, what's happening?" Claire started to ask before I raised a hand.

And how do we save her? I asked the voice in my head, desperate to save any life I could.

Simple. We infect her with an offspring that is designed to control the T-Virus and allows the host to retain their… humanity is the phrase, in a way you desire.

What offspring? And why can we do that?! Everyone around me was starting to give me odd looks.

"Voice in head," I said to them. Hearing this, I see a lot of them get a little wide-eyes. "Not...crazy." Because sane people listen to voices in their heads all the time.

The offspring would be based on us since we are originally designed to control the T-Virus in us. WE CARRY THE WHAT?! I scream in my head, my emotions spiking before they go quiet again—questions for later. Right now, two questions. How do I save the girl, and what are the side effects?

Place your left hand on her head. And no side effects. She will be better, both physically and mentally. I stand there for a minute before sighing loudly. That wasn't ominous at all. But as I stared at the little girl, I couldn't stop myself. If there was a chance to save a family, I had to take it. Keeping my tentacle wrapped around Kendo, I moved towards the girl.

"YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY BABY GIRL, YOU FREAK!!!" he shouted, struggling for all his worth against the restraint. But my tentacle didn't slack up in the slightest bit as I moved over to the child and placed my hand as gently as possible on her head.

"Nem, what are you doing?" Claire asked, standing by the remains of the counter, gun at the ready. Ben hid safely behind her as Carmen helped Leon forwards. Confusion was clear on her face as she looked between us.

"What I can," I said simply, locking eyes with the young girl as small tentacles grew out of my wrist and made their way to her neck. The strands buried themselves into her necks drawing on a little blood. In a moment, there was a reaction as I felt something travel through my arm. As it did, I sent one thought into it. Help her. Let her live. 

The offspring seemed to tremble before it entered the child. And in an instant, she showed an immediate change as color returned to her skin, going from a sickly green to a healthy tan. Her breathing had become steady and regular. As the tentacles withdrew back into my arm I noticed even in the faint alley light, that her skin healed at the points of entry.

Taking my handoff, the girl started to fall before I caught her in the crook of my arm. Holding her gently, I felt a strong heartbeat as I carried her over to her father. Passing by Carmen and the others, I removed the tentacle from around him and held out the girl.

Kendo's arms and eyes were trembling as he took his daughter from my arm. He placed his head on her chest and listened intently. The second he heard her heartbeat, more healthy than he heard it since she was infected, he sobbed loudly.

"Thank you. Thank you,” he whispered over and over as his daughter slept peacefully in his arms.

"Leon, good?" I asked, turning away from the scene, feeling a sense of pride in my chest... Right before it faded away, seeing Sherry looking worse in Ben's arms.

Do not possess the necessary material to cure her, the voice in my head said, killing any hope I had.

"Yeah, the plate caught most of it. Still hurts like hell, though." Leon said. "You good, Ada?"  Ada gave him a stern look in response. "What?"

"I just get done telling you not to be a hero. And you jump in front of a shotgun,” she said, her voice like steel. "Plus, you don't even know me."

"Not very thankful to the person who saved your life," Claire said, firing off a few rounds into the growing horde we started to hear. "Can we move, please? I don't have a mini-gun here!" she shouted at us. Everyone began to move towards the back of the store before pausing and looking at the still crying Kendo.

Walking over, I placed my hand on his back as softly as possible.

"Need to go," I said, trying to keep my voice smooth as he looked up at me and then as his resting daughters, who already looked like her old self.

"Where?" Kendo asked, and then for the first time saw Sherry. "Is she….like my baby?"

"Yea, sir. And right now we need to get moving. The sooner we get her cure, the sooner we can all get out of this city," Leon said, moving his shoulder around with a slight grimace. "Please come with us."

Kendo gave his daughter a brief look before nodding.

"Let me grab my go bag."

…

Cameron "Teddy" Books was a powerful man. Both in body and in position. His appearance reminded people of an old school cowboy. With his slight beard stubble, his short cut hair, and hard gray eyes. His shoulders were still wide from those years of playing in high school. And he could count on one hand the number people in this building who could out fight him. But at this moment, all he could feel was helpless.

I am the freaking head of the CIA special anti-bioterrorism taskforce, and I can't do a damn thing. Not that my title means shit when the biggest supplier of bioterrorism is holding the leash on a lot of heads of states. For the past half a day, he had been trying desperately to get into the emergency meeting regarding Raccoon City, but not a damn person would let him anywhere near it. And he knew exactly why too.

Umbrella is cleaning up their significant fuck up. But that doesn't mean they are completely out of the hole. All I need is just a few people to survive, just a few and I can have enough leverage to use the Typhoon.  As he thought this, he opened the bottom most drawer of his desk, which had a large lockbox built into it. After typing in his code and using the thumb reader, the box popped open, revealing various documents, CDs, hard drives, pictures, and even a few cell phones.

Just then his desk phone started to ring. Seeing the number he gave a small breath to ease his troubled mind and answered.

"Yes, Kristen. What's happening?" he said to his assistant, a highly trained special ops sniper he was thankful followed him when he left the military.

"Morgan Landsdale is asking to meet with you regarding the ongoing incident in Raccoon City, sir,” her voice flat and even as she said the name of a person they were both not overly fond of.

"Any ideas Kristen?" he asked her, giving a small sigh as he looked down at what was quickly over a decade of work. Teddy couldn't help but sigh and the contents. Some of the evidence even had bloodstains on them.  What did Umbrella do that made you so obsessed? 

"Well, sir. A .308 is usually a good countermeasure against unwanted guests,” she offered Teddy, who almost smiled despite the situation.

"Let's try words first, Kristen,” he said as his mood improved a tad. "But make sure your rifle is prepped just in case." With that, he hung up the phone and leaned back.

Speaking of bullets, Raccoon City was the bullet they needed to wound the beast that was Umbrella, and with this much evidence, they would have no more goodwill with the public to try and flip the case. But he didn't smile at this.

He knew what the cost was for the downfall of Umbrella, and it made him sick. So the bear-like man got down from his chair and kneeled. Doing something he hadn't done in years. He prayed.

Dear Lord, send yours angels for those trapped in Raccoon City. Be merciful to those who have died this night and give them comfort. Be the light for those still alive that they may find a way out. And please, Lord, look out for the lost soul in that city. He has done good things for the world and deserves happiness. Amen.

…

"I hate the freaking sewers! Nothing good ever comes from being down here!" Ben shouted as they made their way down the massive pipe. The smell was making his eyes water slightly. Sherry was held tight in his arms as his loafers soaked in the dirty water.

"Sewers ain't so bad, honestly. Remind of the swamps my daddy used to take my brother and I to for a family vacation," Kendo said, his daughter secured on his back via straps and holsters. A modified MP5 was in his hands as a gun decorated each hip while his shotgun hung from a belt around his shoulders.

"Speaking of family, Mr. Kendo, you haven't heard from my brother, have you?" Claire asked as she brought up the rear, her submachine gun sporting a new stock and foregrip.

"Naw. Last I heard he was somewhere in Europe,” he quickly glanced over his shoulder to see Emma still sleeping soundly. Our baby is alive, honey. And I promise she will stay that way. 

"So you don't seem that surprised to hear that Umbrella was the cause of all this," Ada said as she took point with Leon. Nem, right behind them, had to hunch over slightly so he didn't hit the ceiling.

"Aw hell. It makes perfect sense to me. Corporations have been fucking over the living for decades. It was only a matter of time before they moved on to messing with the great beyond," he said just as what felt like a bomb went off above them.

"Was that an earthquake?" Leon asked as they all paused and looked around.

"I hope so," Ada said, looking around as she placed a hand inside her pocket for her .357.  "Let's keep moving."

They didn't get very far before they heard a growl and something crawled past the sewer grate at the far end.

"Now, what the fuck was that?!" Ben shouted seriously, reconsidering asking for a gun.

"Who the hell knows what is down here," Ada said as she continued, moving faster than before. Everyone's pace was faster as they tried to get far away from whatever monster claimed this part of the city.

"Alligator?" Nem offered his boulder-like voice echoed off the walls as he spoke.

"That's a myth," Ben said, trying to take his mind off what they just saw. "After talking with numerous sewer workers and wildlife experts, they all concluded that the whole alligator in the sewer was just an urban myth stipulated by various logs that found their ways into the sewers. Incidentally, that is also the origin of the Loch Ness monster myth." Nem stopped for a moment and turned to face Ben. "What?"

"Talk a lot," Nem told him with an odd look before they resumed their march.

"Drop off here," Leon said, looking down at the waist-high water. "All right. Nem, you and I go down first and you carry the girls on your shoulders. " Nem gave a nod as Leon dropped down. Moving past Ada, he stopped for a moment and looked down at her.  With a very gentle hand he took off her sunglasses and looked into her amber-colored eyes as he placed them in her hands.

"Trust you.,” he said, wishing he could smile before he dropped down to stand with Leon. And the hurt that passed through her eyes was as brief as it was deep.

Oh God I feel everything between my toes! Nem though as his spine shivered in disgust. As he turned around to reach, the water around them started to shake wildly as they could hear something rushing down the other end of the pipe.

"Leon. Run," Nem said, pushing Leon behind him. The rookie cop was torn for a minute as he cradled his assault rifle. Then the giant mutant alligator showed up and Leon turned. Running as fast as he could in the waist deep water.

It sucks when smart people are wrong, Nem thought as the primordial beast rushed him, its flesh diseased and mutated by the T-Virus, a horrid fusion of an ancient creature and modern madness.

It's jaws opened wide as it let loose a roar that shook the very air around it. Nem was sure of one thing. Even if it was him, those jaws would snap him in two. Avoid the jaws then—great stupid plan.

And with the Deathgator charged, its jaws completely open as it moved with a speed that made its massive size seem like a lie. Turning his hands into claws, Nem rushed the Deaghgator.

If I survive this, I need to tell Jill her nickname is now Jinx.

a/n And there we go. Who is this Man in Black? Is Nem gonna be a meal or get a new pair of boots? What exactly are the side effects Emma will have? And why the hell does Albert feel the need to wear so much leather?! Find out....probably not next chapter for the answer to a lot of these questions. On Nemesis Re:Lived. Comments, questions, and ideas are welcome as usually and please don't forget to vote and wash your feet. Thanks for reading. 

Chapter Text

The Nemesis body was the pinnacle of Umbrella bioengineering and nearly a decade of work. Combined with Nem's intelligence and combat skills, it wasn't a stretch to say right now Nem was the strongest 'living' thing on the planet.

But there were a lot of factors preventing him from unleashing his great strength. The primary one being the environment, as he couldn't find his footing in the decades of slime and gunk covering the floor under the water. But Nem still dug his claws as deep into the beast sludge covered armored hide as he could get them.

The other was his own height as he quickly learned when his head slammed against the lowered ceiling with enough force that a normal skull would have shattered instantly. Thankfully, Nem had a very thick skull and a brain that was used to harsh treatment.

God damn overgrown gecko! Nem shouted in his head as blood poured down the back of his head as it scrapped against the low ceiling, his hands grabbing the Deathgator's jaws as he tried to stop its charge and keep the giant away from Leon.

He wasn't doing an excellent job of it as Nem looked to his right and saw Leon trudging through the water. And Nem wasn't the only one who noticed this. As the Deathgator blinked one giant green eye and did something that was equal to death when caught by a gator.

It rolled. 

In an instant Nem was slammed into the ground as various… tastes entered his mouth. Holding back the jaws with every ounce of strength he had, Nem ignored the sound and pain that came from bones cracking as the beast rolled  Nem was vaguely aware of Leon stuck between the Deathgators open jaws at one point as he was slammed around. Whipping out his knife, Leon drove it through the gator's tongue and pinned it to the bottoms of its jaws. His reflexes were almost superhuman as he somehow slipped out of its rolling jaws that didn't even scratch him

Fuck off you giant turd!  Nem shouted as he released its bottom jaw and made his fist tight, swinging with all he could muster as his bones fixed themselves. In a burst of water the Deathgator's head was sent flying up nearly hitting the ceiling, its jaws snapping shut.

Taking the chance, Nem slammed his shoulder under its jaws, pinning it to the roof. Ripping the broken shotgun belt off he quickly slung it around the jaws and, tightening it, sealed its mouth shut. Oh, you got crushing force but not so strong opening your jaw!

Next thing he knew, a massive clawed foot was jabbed into his gut. It pierced clean through his lower body as he was sent flying back. Blood was hacked up through his lipless mouth as water and sludge cushioned his slide before he slammed into a massive pipe. Gaping wounds that would have spelled instant death for any other creature poured blood. Although the wound healed quickly, the gator didn't give Nem any rest as it charged after him.

"Hey, handbag!" Leon shouted, firing his assault rifle at the Deathgator. The round lacked the power needed to pierce it's hide. But its eye was so very vulnerable as a round made it explode in an eruption of black blood and fluids. It reeled back with a roar of pain that shook the walls around it. Leon quickly rushed over and checked on Nem while he had the chance.

"Come on, big guy up and...oh crap,” he started to say before reading the warning signs on the now inflamed pipe blocking the way. Raising to his feet as blood and filth water dripped down his chest, Nem saw the writing. This entire city is a pyromaniac dream come true.

Just then they heard a tearing of metal as the Gator tore the belt apart. The metal having gouged the flesh around its snout so bone was showing. It's remaining eye was filled with rage as it launched its forward at the source of its pain. Nem's own wounds were nearly healed as he stood up.

Grabbing Leon, Nem quickly tossed him through the gap in the pipe and ceiling. Bracing his back against the pipe while holding his shield and Mare. Why do all my ideas involve me doing stupid crap? 

In an instant the Deathgator was on him, launching at him sideways in an attempt to bite in half. The shield folded in on itself as the gator closed its jaws around Nem. The force of the charge was so great the massive pipe was sent flying as Nem and the Deathgator slammed into it.

Aiming the Mare even as he felt the Gators teeth enter his body, Nem fired a round at the damage pipe on the side. The bullet ricocheted off, causing a tiny spark, lighting the gas ablaze as well as the Deathgator that passed through it.

A deafening scream sounded as the Gator was roasted alive. Leon covered his ears as his body bent over in pain from the sound that threatened to deafen him. The force of its charge sent its charred body along Nem landing clear on the other side of the water-filled room. Teeth marks and burns covered his body as he slammed into the ground.  The Deathgator landing nearby as its hide was blackened nearly beyond recognition from the intense flames it jumped through.

Nem opened his eye as he stumbled to his feet amidst the garbage floating around the room looking at the Gator laying on its back unmoving. He couldn't help but laugh as he thought extinction looked good on it.

 As Leon walked over about to say something the Deathgator's body twitched slightly. In a moment both men just unloaded their guns into its soft underbelly, riddling its body with high caliber bullets, neither Nem nor Leon stopped till their guns clicked empty. 

"I think it's dead, fellas," Claire said from a walkway above them as she held her grenade launcher at the ready.

"Better safe than sorry," Leon said up to them, ejecting his empty clip and reloading. "Also, I thought this virus only worked on people. Not reptiles."

"I am an FBI agent. Not a biologist. All I know is don't let it enter your body," Carmen said before kicking down the ladder. "Now, if you guys are done playing Australia, we can keep moving."

"Virologist." Nem said as Leon started to climb the ladder. "Proper..title." Leon gave him a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Then, let's go beat up some virologists,” he said as he climbed up.

…

Irons crawled along the road leading outside the garage, a hastily-applied splint on his leg using his vest and tie. His face was sweat and anger filled as he gripped a knife in his hands. A piece of rope bound around his head, keeping his jaw stable and in one piece.

Find them, kill them, skin them, and taste their organs as they die!! he shouted in his mind, pain, shame, and stress sending him on a fast way to madness that he was already on. Seeing the police car nearby he crawled his way over and tried the door. It was unlocked and as he smiled, a jolt of pain arching through his broken jaw.

Kill them all, have a nice Asian stir fry with an excellent blood topping! he thought, saliva and blood oozing from his mouth as he made his way onto the seat. Stroking the locked shotgun for a minute, he ripped open the glove box and pulled out a small medkit.

Within moments he had downed a bottle of painkillers and hugged the shotgun close to himself. The drugs momentarily drove some of the madness away so he could plan.

There is a sewer entrance nearby. Make it to that and then follow them. There are so many small tunnels down there the giant fucking freak could never follow me down. Then get the girl, kill the rest, get the cure, kill the girl and bitch, and drag Ada away for a nice dinner. As he thought this as loud boom echoed as the car lurched forward, slamming his nose against the wheel, breaking it and sending blood all over his face.

"What fucking shit is this now?" he gargled out as more teeth fell out. Raising his head, a mass of tentacles slammed through as they wrapped around him.  He tried to scream but a tentacle wrapped around his mouth as he was hoisted into the air. Like slimy pale snakes they bound him from head to toe as he looked upon their source and tried to scream.

Mr. X, or what it had once been, was now hunched and broken despite its rapid growth in height. Tumors of varying size lined its body as a giant bloodshot eye forced its jaws open. The eyes were gone from its sockets as what looked like teeth lined the now empty holes. Its once pristine containment suit now hung off its malformed body in shreds as wires fell from its head like a macabre wig, its legs twisted and broken as bones jutted out of them keeping the...GX Tyrant standing.

The tentacles sprouted from the numerous holes on its hunched back as it brought Irons close to its face. And its eye stared into his face before the tentacles moved, so their tips were facing him. Splitting open, they revealed rows and rows of tiny teeth.  In the moments before Irons died as the tentacle chopped away at his flesh, he heard one last thing from them.

"Find...the...girl." 

…

Annette Seymour was panicking as she watched the group ride down the elevator. 

"What the fuck is the Nemesis doing here? What the fuck is Ada doing here?! Why the fuck is Sherry with them?!" she shouted watching as she watched them through a handheld monitor. Fucking shit!!! What do I do?!

The group was going to be here soon and right now she had a make or break moment. And so she grabbed a canister out of her coat. This should be enough for them. It worked on the G-Children and it should work on the Nemesis. What the fuck is this?!

Moving towards the door she readied a small trap and ran down a nearby hallway. Falling to her rear she watched through the monitor as the group neared the door. The mixture should knock them out for at least an hour.  This isn't a plan. This is desperation.

Just then, the door opened.

"What the fuck!" a young voice sounded as green smoke filled the hallway. A rage filled shout shook the halls as she looked around the corner as saw the Nemesis grab the canister and toss it down the hallway.  Then their eyes met and in an instant a massive clawed hand was gripping her head as the Tyrant held her against the wall. 

Before anything else happened, the group started to fall as the chemical went to work. One by one they fell to the ground. Seeing this caused an all too human pain to appear in the Nemesis's eye. Before his eye seemed to ignite in rage.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" it shouted as blood shot from its mouth, its vocal chords tearing in protest at the yet unused stress. But then it let go as it fell to one knee as the gas started to affect it too.

"What I had to,” she said, moving through the group and grabbing Sherry. Holding her daughter close she inspected her face and seeing the virus symptoms, a plan started to form. Moving back how she was about to move out of sight when a tentacle wrapped around her ankle.

"Not..her…" the Nemesis whispered as Annette broke free of the tentacle and kept moving. "Not...Alastor…."

A/N So got hit with an inspiration wave so was able to finish it up sooner than expected. I do apologize for the low word count. I will try to make the next one longer. As always thanks for reading and for giving my story so much support. Let's all have moment of silence for the Deathgator..... Welp it ain't getting any deader! 

Chapter Text

I awaken to the sound of my brother screaming and the scent of smoke.

"Alistair!" I shout, rushing to my feet only to fall back as the massive chains tethered me to the wall. No! You will not stop me!!

Grabbing the chains, I yank and I yank, and I roar as I pull with everything I have. Uncaring as the muscles and ligaments tore in my arms, as my manacles finally broke free from the chains. Turning around, I tackle the steel door blocking my path, sending it flying off the hinges with a massive dent in it. Running through the bricked hallways, my mind raced in fear as his screams got louder and louder. Cutting me more profoundly than any mutant or zombie had before.

Never fast enough to catch the past

Suddenly, a pair of Lickers pounce on me from the shadows, teeth biting and hooked claws digging more into my back. Struggling to my feet as I proceed to slam myself and the Lickers into the walls, scraping them off me. Feeling their claws loosen, I reach over and grab them, their heads fitting in my massive hands by quite a margin. 

"Get off!" I shouted in my raspy voice as I tossed them with all I had into the ground, heads crushing in my grip.

You can't save the dead.

"He isn't dead yet!" I shout at the ceiling as I resume running, heart pounding as hallways keep going and going, shadows and light dancing across the walls, forming laughing faces and demonic visages, taunting, mocking me.

"Don't leave me!" Alister shouts at me, his voice coming from behind a garage door that appeared out of nowhere. Not hesitating, I barrel through the thin metal and straight into a green webbing. In an instant, a group of Krawlers make their way down the webbing, their mandibles clicking in excitement at the feast. I am not on the menu!

Freeing my tentacle from inside my arm, I propel it forward, piercing through the Krawlers. Their cries of pain are loud as the tentacle goes through their exoskeleton with ease as I turn my fingers into claws, tearing through the webbing around me. My tentacle swung to the side as the force sent the Krawler corpses flying off into a wall. And I fall into the...void?!

Where the hell am I?!  I shout in my head as I am surrounded by eternal darkness, my only light a small beam that shines on me. Then like a candle in the wind, the light is snuffed out.

In the hell you made.

…

I open my eyes and see a large man-well, more like a barrel with limbs, sitting at a table in a nice kitchen. His thick fingers are flying across the keyboard with practiced ease as he sipped a cup of steaming coffee. I had been watching Mr. Books here for months now, and he always did his essential work late at night when his family was asleep due to some of his reports requiring...visual aids he didn't want his family to see. His results were precisely why I was here to see him so late at his home about a mile from the city. I could see why he lived here, it was rather lovely. Although his other uninvited guest in black might be here for more nefarious reasons , I thought as they placed the barrel of a .22 Ruger Silencer against Mr. Books head.

"Don't make a sound, or I kneecap you and your family while I set the house on fire,” the assassin said, his voice a razor as he meant every word.  Backing up slightly, so he was well out of reach of Mr. Books, he carried on. "Now real slowly, turn around. I can't make this look like a suicide if I shoot you through the back."

Geez, from the way he talks to the black trench coat, fake European accent, and the scar on his face, you would think this guy would start explaining his plan for world domination, I felt as I sat on a counter, legs folded on top of each other as I waited behind the duo for an opening.

"Let me guess; Umbrella has taken offense at my investigations?" Mr. Brooks asked slowly, turning around, his hands in the air, open and far from his body. Eyes hard as stone while staring down the assassin, but that all changed in a second as he saw me behind the his-would-be killer. "...is that Jean Claude Van Demme?"

The Bond villain quickly turned and leveled his Ruger at my head, pausing for a moment at my face mask. A moment I had no plan on wasting as I unleashed a high kick, heavy steel-toed boots catching his chin and sending his brain scrambling around the inside of his skull. Unconscious before he even finished turning, the now concussed man started to fall before I caught him by the back of the coat and gently lowered him to the ground. 

"So by the fact most of my body is still intact, you wanna talk?' I asked Mr. Books as the telltale sound of hammers being cocked echoed in the quiet.

"Or I don't wanna ruin my floorboards,” he said, a sawed-off shotgun aimed square at my chest. "Organs smell and blood is terrible to get out of wood. But then again, I have meant to remodel, so persuade me why I should postpone that."

I like him, I realized as I smiled at the man threatening my life through the face mask resembling a famous action star. Then a haze comes over my eyes, and I find myself somewhere else entirely.

"Yep. Just let me replace some wiring here, and then your AC should be back. Then they can get back to fixing the cameras, Mr. Books," I told the angry sweating bear of a man sitting behind his desk, glaring at me the whole time.

"There are probably several other ways you could have snuck into my house and talked to me," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief that had a cute bunny on it. "But you had to mess with the AC system across the entire building. Why exactly?"

"Because this way I have access to more of the building, check on, and for, any more of Umbrella’s plants, plus maybe find some dirt on some of your esteemed bosses," I said as I finished up fixing the AC unit. Sticking a taser in anything messes it up, be it people or machines, I thought to myself with a chuckle as I put the pliers back in my toolbox. Geez, the things they let you bring into a high ranking government facility just because you're here to fix things for them.  

"So, how was South Africa?" Brooks asked, leaning back in his chair as he studied the family portrait on his desk.

"...what makes you think I have been to South Africa?" I retorted, sitting in a chair across from stealing a handful of candy from his bowl. I swear to God I might as well have hypoglycemia with all the sugar these little guys demand of me. Cameron just smiled before he reached into his desk and brought out a security camera image of someone in a skull mask unloading kids from a massive truck in front of a bunch of confused guards 

"I doubt many people would take down a child slavery ring and then leave millions of dollars with the kid when they were dropped off at the UN," Cameron said with a smile as I jsut looked away and kept eating candy.

"That could be anyone with good fashion sense and a free weekend,” I said, looking away before reaching back into my toolbox and removing a small compartment in the bottom revealed a small stash of hard drive, pictures, and audio recordings. "The last bit of silvers for the bullet." 

Cameron took the evidence as hands trembled slightly, nearly a decade of my life was spent gathering evidence, burning down hidden labs, helping Carmen, who in turn helped me, and just being a massive knife in Umbrella's side. My gun was ready; my bullet was ready; now all I needed was the shot. 

"Well, Cameron, keep your schedule clear, and I will try to contact you once I get there," I told my long-time partners as I stood up, toolbox in hand as I made for the door.

"Wait. Please be careful, @%#&," he said, walking from behind his desk and, surprisingly, hugged me so tight I thought he would break my spine.

"Please. I have been in some of the worst combat zones in the world; Raccoon City won't be much," I said to my friend with a smile before everything started to….crack like broken glass around me. A massive burnt… something slammed through the crack and, grabbing my face, dragged me in.

You can't run from yourself!

...

I am thrown in, what I hope, is water as a familiar grim and various fluid stained stones surrounded me. 

"God. I hate sewers," I said, spitting out water as I stood up, wiping water off my face. That's when I saw my hands. "My hands are...human. Oh my God! My voice! I can talk!" 

"STA...R..S?!" a voice called out; its volume made the walls shake as it came from down the tunnel. Heavy boots, steps sounding as their source came into view, black leather tights, and yellow caution stickers stand out in the dim lights.

"STARS!!" the Nemesis shouted its roar, shaking the air as it charged me, red-eye blazing with rage and hate. 

Holy- It is terrifying on this end. I realized as I turned and made a break, pumping my legs as fast as I could in the knee-deep water. The Nemesis was gaining on me as it moved with the power and speed of a charging elephant from hell! I didn't have a weapon, not that one would do much good against it, and there was no way in hell I was going to try fighting it with my bare hands.

"Gotta find a way out of I here!"I shouted frantically, searching for a way out of here, then I saw the samurai. He was quickly over six feet tall, wearing full armor that had stylized eyes drawn all over his armor, as nothing but orbs of green light floated through the holes of his face mask. Saying nothing, he pointed at a small shaft just big enough for me.

Deeper down to find your end.

With no hesitation in my gait, I turned and aimed straight for the shaft. The Nemesis slammed one giant boot down where I had just been. Diving into the post, I felt something pierce my neck as I fell down the shaft.

Deeper

Deeper

Deeper

And then, like magic, I was on solid ground, or more accurately, solid bone. Fireballs sprang to life in front of me, revealing an entire room made of human skulls—young, old, rotten, fresh, broken, whole, male and women. They were all used to make this room; even the door in the front of my eyes was made of it. Then came the chanting.

With no control of myself, I walked towards the door,placed my hand on its ice-cold frame,  and pushed it open, revealing the dark cathedral inside. If hell had a church, this would be it. Twisted wooden images of pains and tortured souls graced the walls, each one more terrifying than the last. Rows of pews filled with chanting robed figures were on each side of me. Their deformities, like a deranged child playing god, filled them to the brim as their music rose and fell like a tide. Then Pestilence spoke from his stand in front of them, for who else could it be. Boils, sores, blisters, and diseased flesh were on full view from what little could be seen of his skin.

"My children,” he whispered, his voice disgustingly sweet as he spoke to the congregation. "Our guest is finally here for his baptism!"

"Baptism! Baptism! Baptism!" The monsters shouted in unison as chains erupted from the floor, holding me right as they dragged me to my knees.

"In the Name of the Failed!" Pestilence whispered, a light shining on his right, revealing Alistair pinned to the wall by a massive knife, lifeless eyes seeing nothing as blood dripped from his lips.

"No!!!!" I shouted before chains wrapped around my mouth, silencing me, as I struggled with all I had.

The Failed!

The Failed!

The Failed!

"In the Name of the Abandoned!" he continued, ignoring my outburst as another image was revealed. Jill, broken, bleeding, and crying as Mr. H cradled her in his tendrils, his tongue licking the tears of her face, giggling insanely, never stopping as his eyes found mine, mad joy dancing in them.

The Abandoned!

The Abandoned!

The Abandoned!

I struggled and struggled and struggled and struggled, but I couldn't break free!

"In the Name of the Lost!" with this final one, my soul broke as bloody tears poured from my eyes. Sherry being dragged into a dark void by clawed hands cutting into her flesh as she reached out for me.

The Lost!

The Lost!

The Lost!

"I baptize you!" Pestilence finished slamming his hands on the stand in front of him, causing all the lights to go out. I couldn't see for a moment, but only for a moment as the fire flickered to life right in front of me.

"My Son, I am so proud of you," Lord Spencer said with a smile as he gently cupped my face before smiling. "I always knew you would be like me."

All hail the Monster!

Chapter Text

Deep in the sewers of Raccoon City, beneath the streets filled with wandering dead and burning remains, was a life cut down by the evils of man. It was a pure, unforgiving nightmare that its people didn't deserve. But deserve it or not, the hell was happening regardless, and what few people survived this night would carry the the scars

 Ada Wong, or the woman who currently used that name, honestly wished sometimes she would never wake in a world where this could happen. But she did have to wake up, and she did have a job to do.

Okay, so they did have MM-ZZ; the Burkins just unhooked it from the air delivery system. It makes sense if they were trying to run, Ada thought with a groan as a migraine started to form. MM-ZZ was a highly effective, fast-acting knock-out gas. Umbrella kept in all their research facilities if something went wrong, and they needed time to send in a clean-up crew.  Or they accidentally made something right with a bad attitude that could be sold or studied for future profits. A neuroinhibitor that worked 99% of the time still left the body quickly enough to have no threat to life. Of course, it cost a small island or a halfway decent senator bribe to make, but that was the cost of science.

Getting to her feet shakily, Ada studied the room, seeing everyone else still unconscious and the Birkin girl still gone. Guess she didn't want to attract attention by firing a gunshot and didn't have the guts to slice my throat. I couldn't say the same for myself if I were in her shoes.  

Hearing a moaning to the side of her, Ada saw a zombie, more skeleton than flesh, about to take a bite out of Kendo. The next thing she knew, a small foot lashed out with surprising speed, destroying the undead skull like a rotten melon. Ada's eye went wide for a moment as she trained her gun on Emma. It was a full minute of having her pistol on the girl before she calmed down. She is still asleep, from what I can tell from her breathing. Or at least the human brain is... that kid is going to have an exciting life.

Taking off her jacket, Ada took the particular syringe gun out of her pace, moving towards Nem. Even standing next to his body slumped against the wall, his head was nearly level with her own. Taking a deep breath, she placed the device right at the base of Nem's neck. You have a job to do, don't hesitate. Wesker wouldn't if he thought you're weren’t up to this.  

One quick pull of the trigger sent the needle deep into Nem's neck, reaching deep into his spine. The vial is quickly filling with a clear fluid that seems to glow almost. Once it was complete, she quickly unscrewed it and studied the liquid for a moment.  Placing it in her pack with barely a sigh, Ada Wong drew the .357 Magnum placing the barrel against Nem's head. 

"My dear, as much as I would love to know if you could pull that trigger or if my son could survive that, I am afraid I cannot take that chance," a voice said from the radio in her pack. "Now, do be kind enough to turn on the video. I prefer to look people in the eyes when I talk to them. See their souls if you would."

"Lord Spencer, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Ada said as she brought the transceiver up to her face, turning the volume down slightly so she can keep an ear out around her. She didn't want someone to wake up and interrupt.

"My dear, beautiful women may call me Oswald," Spencer said, smiling slightly, sitting against a moonlight window. An aide pouring a glass of what she hoped was wine. Because alongside zombies, vampires don’t need to exist.

"I prefer my relationships to be professional, Lord Spencer," Ada replied curtly, lowering the pistol from Nem's head.

"Considering how you acted with my, shall I say, more interesting son, I am intrigued by what you would consider personal. But enough foreplay, my dear. Do not shoot him; I don't think that would kill him, but I don't take chances," Spencer said, a sliver of iron in his voice as he sipped the wine.

"I am afraid, sir, I have little to no choice as per my current employer's request to kill the Nemesis," Ada replied, mentally breathing a small sigh. Relief that she had an excuse not to pull the trigger.

"My dear, I am familiar with your current boss and his...odd taste in leather. But no need to worry. We both have a mutual benefactor who wants the Nemesis alive, for now,” he said, just as the phone next to him began to ring. "Speaking of the boy... Hello, my son," Spencer answered, picking up the old rotary phone. What was only a few minutes felt like hours as Ada watched an Old Devil talk to a young one. Nem was stirring next to her as he started to sweat.

Is he having a nightmare? she thought just as he charged forward, a first clenched so tight blood ran through his fingers.

" I AM NOT YOUR SON!!!!" Nem roared so loud it was sure to echo even to the surface, eyes still closed as scarlet tears ran down his cheek. Ada could almost count the minute scars on Nem's knuckle as it sailed towards her. Taking a step back, she was highly fortunate and slipped in some...unknown liquid. The force of the blow, easily strong enough to take her head off, narrowly missed her face as it went through a concrete wall. 

Thankfully, Ada didn't have to worry about him finding the transceiver since it was smashed to smithereens by one giant foot. Right now, though, she was more worried about the biological war machine looming above her and what he might have dreamed about.  Meanwhile, the others were groaning to their feet, the roar waking them. 

"Ada..where...Sherry?" Nem asked as he fully woke up, ripping his arm free from the wall.

That is an excellent question.

…

Sherry couldn't tell you where she was; her entire body felt like it was at war with itself. Some parts of her burned like there was a fire under her skin, others so cold it was a miracle she wasn't blue. But a horrible combination of sickly green, deathly pale, red, and black infected veins running all over her body, especially around the eyes. Two red, inflamed veins crossing her closed eyelids.

"Gotta catch him, use the garbage dump nearby. He...it will come straight for her, needs a compatible host. Trap it in there, usd the canister, and then get you the cure. Don't worry, sweetie. Soon we are going to have that strawberry ice cream you love." Her….mother told her with a smile, trying to reassure her daughter—the same daughter who was allergic to strawberries and dying in her arms. The mold and filth covered echoed slightly with the sound of her footsteps as she hurried down the tunnel heading straight for the incinerator, bio ID on her wrist.  But right now, all Sherry cared about was one thing.

Why..didn't...you come...get me? Sherry wanted to ask before it felt like lightning raced through her spine, making her entire body spasm. If she had the strength to scream, Sherry would have moaned in pain, but all she could do was whimper.

But all Annette cared about was one peculiar sound, the pump action of a shotgun as it chambered a round.

"I don't feel fear; you do. I don't care if the brat in your arms dies; I think you do. You are going to answer my questions with yes or no. Do you know who I am?" The large man in riot gear and slightly cracked red-tinted gas mask asked, the shotgun in his hands unwavering as he held it steady at Annette's head. A small trail of blood running over his show, evident he had taken a bad fall to the head.

"Yes. You're the Grim.." She didn't go any further before the Grim Reaper fired a round, the steel balls so close they brushed her hair.

"That wasn't a yes or no. You changed the code to the lab."

"...yes."

"Explains why I couldn't get in to recover a new sample. Can you get back in?"

"..yes."

"Is that your daughter?"

"Yes." 

"Do you love your daughter?"

"Of..yes."

"Good." Saying that Grim quickly slung the shotgun across his back before ripping Sherry from Annette's arm and tossing her over his shoulder, drawing his Custom TMP all in one movement. "Take me to the lab."

"Wait! I need her for ARGH!" Annette tried to speak before Grim shot her in the left arm. The bullet tore a small chunk out of her arm, sending her to the ground clutching the wound. Grim didn't give her a moment before he kicked her hand away from the injury and pressed his still hot gun barrel against it. In a moment, the air was filled with the smell of burning flesh and -screams of pain.

"I don't say anything three times. I don't care if you need your daughter as bait,  and yes, you were using her as bait. Even with my lack of emotions, I understand the wrong of that act. But at the moment, she is better used as leverage," he spoke, her pain-filled face reflecting in his crimson lenses. Kicking open a nearby door, he motioned towards it, uncaring about anything but his mission. "Now move. I need you with only three limbs; the fourth or what's left of it is dead weight. Don't make me cut it off."

Annette looked up at the man, knowing he meant precisely what he said, struggled to her feet, and began walking.  A trail of blood behind her, she led the Grim Reaper further into the hell she helped make.

…

"We need to get Sherry back," Claire said, double-checking her weapons and ammo. Ready to charge into the sewers after the child. 

"Claire, I agree, but we need to think, how would we find her?" Leon asked, taping his flashlight to the barrel of his gun while also putting a light attachment on his .50. It would be dark up ahead soon, and he would need all the light he could get. "This place is a maze, and unless we get lucky or you put a tracker on her, it could take hours."

"Oh, if only someone had thought of putting a tracker on the child infected with a deadly virus. Oh wait, I did," Carmen said with a smile as she held up a small radar-looking device. "You should always have a way to track important packages."

"A child is not a package," Kendo said, checking his child, worried about her after seeing the zombie with a crushed skull on the ground behind them. Nem was standing by the door, keeping a lookout for any more zombies, giving the group a chance to discuss and plan. "What's wrong with him?"

"Very...bad dreams," Nem responded, loading and checking his Mare's Leg. A veritable dark cloud of anger and sadness hung around him as he remembered his dreams.

"I suggest giving him some space for now. As for the package argument, let's agree to disagree; now let's see how close they are," Ada said with a smile as the screen lit up. While she did that, Ben kept glancing at the guns at Kendo's hips before letting out a sigh.

"Hey, um, can I have one?" the reporter asked, gesturing at a pistol. Kendo just turned and gave the reporter a long look.

"Mr. Reporter, have you ever even fired a gun before?" Kendo asked, picking up his daughter in a modified carrier, securing her again to his back.

"Well….no better time to learn, right?" he asked with a chuckle, rubbing his hands nervously. 

"There are plenty of better times to teach someone how to use a gun. Hell naw, you are not getting one of my big guns; these are for my hands only," he said, patting his sidearm with a shake of his head and started to walk away, only to stop and look away at the dead zombie at his feet. "God damn bleeding heart zombie mother. Reporter, get over here."

Nervous at the sudden change, Ben walked over as Kendo rummaged through his many vest pockets, muttering to himself.

"I know I had something..nope, that's a grenade….no, that's a little C4. Aw, here, this should help you," Kendo said, grabbing Ben's hand giving him a...

"...this is the smallest gun I have ever seen. How the hell do I even load this?" Ben asked, trying to find a switch or something to open the wheel.

"...my brother would slap the dog crap out of you for fiddling with a loaded gun like that," Kendo said, struggling not to backhand the reporter. "You don't. The NAA .22 had only got five shots, I don't have any other bullets, and the range is shit. So that's a last line of defense, also a way out of a situation you're not going to survive if you are smart enough to save a bullet." Ben was confused for a minute before the meaning behind the words sunk in.

"I...I hope it doesn't come to that; I don't honestly know if I could do that,” he said, the small gun in his hand suddenly feeling like the heaviest thing in the world.

"Believe me, Mr. Reporter, you can't imagine what people are prepared to do to prevent suffering of themselves or loved ones…." Kendo said, a terrible sadness in his eyes as he glanced at Emma, sleeping peacefully on his back, the color already returning to her face. Before Ben could or even begin to think of how to respond, there was a beeping sound.

"Okay, I got her signal, and she is moving fast."

"Which...way?" Nem asked, moving towards Ada; his eye was as cold as a tundra, while whatever suppressed his emotions worked overtime. Ada looked up at him, for the briefest moment very terrified of what the Nemesis would be like if his foster brother were the brain inside it.

"Straight that way, if someone makes a shortcut,” she answered, pointing at a nearby wall.  Not another word needed to be said as Nem charged the wall and, with one massive slam of his shoulder, was on the other side.

"Shortcut..made."

…

Jill woke up with her heart beating against her chest like a tambourine, eyes scanning her arms, looking for any sign of infection, Nem's jacket covering her legs. Looking around the hospital room, she wondered how she got here when the last thing she remembered was fighting that giggling freak. That's when the doctor walked into the room or a giant that was wearing doctor clothes.

"Well, I can tell you’re a morning person,” Nem said, a mask covering his lower face as he walked in. He was checking off a clipboard as he came to sit by Jill. “Now, how do you feel?"

".....very confused,” she answered honestly as a message played on the Television.

"This is an announcement to anyone still left alive in Raccoon City. The current pandemic has been deemed uncontainable, and thus by a decree from Congress, the city will be leveled within the next 4 hours. We urge all residents who can to flee the city before time runs out."

"Well, you don't have long to stay confused. You and your friends gotta get out of the city,” he said, sitting down next to her bed. “And before you ask, yes, this is a dream."

"I have to save the city!” she shouted, jumping to her feet, heading straight for the door only to find it locked. “Nem, open the door!"

"First, I am not Nem; I am more your subconscious taking his appearance. Second, you know you can't save this city; it is already dead,” he said with a sigh as she grabbed her jacket.

"I can't fail again! I failed my team, but I am not going to fail my city!" Jill shouted, slamming a shoulder against the door, desperately trying to force it open. “Unlock the damn door!"

"You're the only one keeping you here. All because you haven't accepted a straightforward fact., 'Nem replied,  moving over to lean down and stare her in the eyes. 'It. Wasn't. Your. Fault. And don't even start!" he shouted, holding a hand in front of her face.

"You did everything in your power to save your team. Everything humanly possible to survive the horror Albert and Umbrella unleashed on you. All of this!' he shouted, pointing at the TV as a reel of all the horrors she had seen outside flashed across the screen. “It's not because of you! It is because of evil bitches in the form of men and women who, due to an accident of birth, have been given a position of power or lack of morals. They are the monsters, the failures, and the ones who deserve punishment."

For the longest time, Jill couldn't say a word as she watched the TV, the images changing to memories of her and the S.T.A.R.R team. From the good to the bad, it was all there, causing tears to fall as her emotions, long-buried, bubbled to the service.

"...what do I do?" she asked, wiping her face when she felt Nem drape his jacket over her shoulders.

"Live and do what you're meant to, kick-ass, save those you can, and look good doing it,” he said, taking off his mask, and for a brief moment, his face was an oddly familiar one. “Also, you should probably wake up now."

…

Jill awoke with a start, hands clutching her jacket as she found herself in an exact duplicate of the room from the one in her dreams. Looking to her left, she could see her Samurai Edge pistol and G18 next to her with some spare clips. Whipping the tears from her face, she got to her feet and grabbed the guns. She had a job to do and assholes to kick.

Chapter Text

Umbrella employed certain types of... individuals for their Security Service team. Low morals, violent backgrounds, weapons experience, and, odd as it is, a healthy mental state. After a severe background check, usually taking up to a few months followed by a week of drugged interrogation of the prospective hire, they were taken to a training site that does not exist in any official record.

For the next three months, they were put through intensive training that was the cause of more than one candidate mentally breaking down from stress, or physically breaking down from the rigorous exercise and medicinal supplements they were made to endure. Failure of the program was not an option, as anyone who flunked out or showed signs of resistance to Umbrella's commands got volunteered for other services. But considering the life expectancy, which was never told to potential members, of their job, the volunteers are considered lucky by some staff. It was even practice for people who worked comms during their jobs to make bets on who would live and die.

But there was one person who never came close to breaking. Some doubted he was a human, with the way he walked out of hell holes and death traps that killed his entire team. The way he could almost robotically carry out the will of Umbrella Executives. Among the Security Team, he was their most remarkable and dangerous operative. His name, whether real or not one could not say, was Hunk, but his other moniker was spoken only in hushed whispers far away from those cold, piercing eyes.

He was called Death and for a good reason.

…

Another gust of wind assaulted Annette as Hunk fired another round that nearly grazed her head. The undead, headshot for a second time, stumbled a minute before lurching back to its feet. Two bullets smashed against its forehead, and the bone blackened and cracked from the impact. She felt a small surge of fear at the mutation while Hunk only grunted in annoyance before firing off a round at its knees, sending it sprawling back to the ground.

"Move," he told Annette, pushing her forward down a service tunnel, stomping down hard on the zombie's neck as he did. Its spine, not yet reinforced, shattered under his heavy boot, and the undead was left snarling impotently on the ground behind them.

"Did you have a plan to kill your husband?" Hunk asked, glancing behind them as something made a scraping sound. 

"...Yes," she replied, too scared to lie as they moved forward, pipes shaking overhead as water along with other liquid leaked from them.

"Explain," Hunk said, making sure to keep an eye on the doors as they moved down the maintenance tunnels. He needed a way into the lab and a plan to kill Annette's husband, and she would be able to provide both. 

"...a liquid-based destabilizer for the G-Virus. Would have forcefully undone the bond between the Virus and cells, thereby undoing his cohesion,” she said, moving along slowly, a rough bandage made from her coat on her burn wound. “But it wasn't finished, so I needed to lure him into a room I was sure would hold him until it was ready."

"So melt him with science, and your daughter would have been the ideal bait," he summarized, instincts telling him to hurry up as those noises got closer. While fear might have been something Hunk could ignore, the warnings of danger were something he always listened to.

"She wasn't the bait! She was just…" she shouted, rage making her forget the gun pointed at her head as she whirled around. Hunk quickly reminded her by firing a round that just grazed her neck.

"Fun fact, you can disable someone's vocal cords with a bullet, and they won't bleed out. Remember that when you shout,” Hunk warned, voice hard as a knife. “Now, you planned to use your daughter as bait so that you could trap him. Your daughter would not have survived, and you would have joined her."

Annette bit back the words in her mouth, neck still burning as she looked up at her daughter on Hunk's shoulder.  

"When we get to the lab, lead me to that chemical. Then…." Hunk suddenly became quiet, turning around, aiming his machine pistol down the dark tunnel.  Annette quickly bent over and grabbed  a broken bottle for a weapon, whether to attack Hunk or for comfort she didn't know but her thought process stopped when the nose came.

Thump, thump, 

"Itttt urrrrrttttsss….urrrrrrrtsss." The voices echoing from the tunnel were shattered and garbled like the owner was speaking through numerous broken mouths. Lights flickered down the dark tunnel, a mass of flailing...something was making its way forwards, barely visible in the light but Hunk had seen enough.

"Carry this," he said, moving towards Annette, almost tossing her unconscious daughter at her. Dropping the bottle as Sherry fell into her arms, she grimaced in pain as the weight aggravated her injuries. "Don't bitch, you carried her for 9 months."

Grabbing a grenade from his vest and cooking it, he tossed it at the monster. All the while he was moving towards a nearby door, all but dragging Annette with him, as the explosive sent the thing reeling back in pain. 

Opening the door, he took a quick look inside. A desk, some lockers, and a toolbox were all that was inside.

No exits, perfect.

"Stay,” he said, shoving her into the room and slamming it shut behind them, not even bothering to see them land. Grabbing his shotgun, Hunk turned on the flashlight attachment, immediately wishing Umbrella offered amnesia in a jar.

The long-clawed paws slammed against the ground as it dragged its slug-like body across the ground. A maw filled with teeth, broken and yellow was scrawled across between its fore-limbs and…what was left of Irons. Like a cloak of disgust, he was draped, the thing growing from his jaw and chest. Black blood flows down the entire length of the beast.

Irons, or at least, what was left of him was broken. His body was twisted, broken, with small chunks gnawed out of his body. The wounds were oozing with…stuff Hunk would rather not think about.

Or even look at.

Round after round was fired into the former police chief, the slugs tearing into the monster's skin with ease.

"URRRRRTTTTTTT!!!! T URRRRRRTS!!!!" Twisted Irons shouted from both mouths, massive limbs covering its human part from the shotgun fire. The slugs barely penetrated the limbs before falling to the ground. 

Hunk quickly processed this when Twisted Iron slammed its arms to the ground, cracking the ground for the force. Its lower jaw opened as a long appendage flew from its mouth.

Moving on instinct, Hunk rolled forward, the appendage missing his head by inches. Holding his shotgun with one hand, Hunk grabbed a grenade with the other. Throwing the grenade, he performed a quick draw that would put an outlaw to shame.

"No tongue, creep." Hunk fired at the grenade, the slug hitting the grenade just as it entered the creature's mouth. The sharpened, fire, and shockwaves that ripped through the former Chief of Police almost made one of Umbrella's Top Agents smile. Almost.

"Hyyyy!!!!! Aaaaaat iiiiiidddde onnnnnnng?!?" Twisted Irons shouted as the human part, somehow half of it was almost in one piece crawled forward. A trail of blood and guts lay on the ground as it slammed broken human hands on the ground to move.

Hunk watched for a moment before holstering his pistol and reloading his shotgun. He took a moment to check all his weapons and gear was good, uncaring for the dying gurgles in front of him.

Moving forward, and stepping over the dying thing, Hunk stepped in from the door but on the verge of opening it, stopped. Drawing his sidearm, the Agent leveled it in front of him as he opened the door.

"Aaahhh!" Annette shouted rage as she swung the crowbar at Hunk. His pistol barked in response and cut off Annette's left ear near the top. The pain caused her to drop the crowbar midswing, Hunk catching it.

"Next time don't stand in front of the door.” Moving past Annette with that lesson echoing in her good ear, he moved to Sherry laying in the corner breathing heavily. 

After a bit of finagling with some tubing from the toolbox, Hunk secured the valuable hostage on his back. Moving back to Annette, carrying a pistol and crowbar in either hand, he stared down at her.

"Get up, and move. Or I should give you an excuse for not hearing me?"

All the while Twisted Iron lay dying down the hall, moans, and tears echoing into the darkness.

…

"We have to do what?" Claire asked the FBI agent, not believing her ears.

"We have to find chess pieces and place them in the right order," Ada repeated, not believing it either if it wasn't in front of her.

"I paid taxes for this crap!?" Kendo nearly shouted, staring at the massive vault door as though his rage would make it explode.

Whoever designed this city's security sure hated people. I thought, as whatever kept my emotions muted finally pushed down the feelings left over from the nightmare. That cathedral scene still haunts me every time I close my eyes. Moving away from the group, I studied the wall just around the corner of the vault door.

"Probably a dumb question, did anyone pick up any chess pieces?" Leon asked, wondering if they had enough explosives to blow up the door. 

"Oh yes, I have the whole set. Because it is natural for a person to pick up random chess pieces they find in a zombie-filled sewer," Kendo replied, getting out some C4 and wire. "Best option because going back wastes too much time."

"Maybe if we.." Conversation stopped as the dust started falling from the ceiling while the room shook. The group turned as one to see me slamming fist after fist into the wall, craters forming under each blow. 

"I think that's a reinforced wall, bud," Leon said, moving over to watch me work from a safe distance. Reaching down, making sure to lift with my legs, I yanked the control panel out of the wall. Tossing it behind me to block the door, I stepped in and started slamming my entire body against it.

"Softer than steel." Taking some long strides I made it to the other side of the room and crouched down. Feeling my legs change, kneecaps popping backward for greater speed, I took a sprinter's stance. Fingers tore into the ground like it was clay.

"Oh shit. Back up, back up," the Rookie cop quickly moved the group back as I launched myself forward. Charging through the reinforced wall, my body was airborne for a few moments as I left a hole behind me. The only thing that stopped me was the metal staircase behind, it crumpled indeed the impact slightly.

Moving through the large hole in the wall I dusted myself off as the group studied me. 

"Ready?"

…

Hungry. Angry. WHERE IS HE? Mr. H thought to himself listening to Jill Valentine from behind the walls of the lab under the hospital. Her heartbeat was a symphony that brought hunger to its black heart as it followed. It has taken every fiber of restraint it had not to eat her, break her, or play with her during the elevator ride down.

But its fury gave it patience, so it moved ahead, finding other food to satisfy its growing body.  It would leave Jill for a bit to hunt, using the large vents and gaps to travel, grabbing a wayward zombie or mutant. More often than not it unhinged its jaw, swallowing its prey whole.

It enjoyed the kicking in its stomach.

Then as it moved back to Jill it heard a voice.

"Stupid one-eyed bastard,"  Nikolai muttered to himself as he sent every piece of data available to a secure dark website. Just in case Umbrella tried anything to betray him, this would give him an ace in the hole.

Information on the Nemesis was currently on the screen. Of course, a lot of it was black-marked but enough was shown to cause a lot of trouble. 

The damned thing is easily one of Umbrella's top mad science projects. And yet it is a bleeding heart with an outdated sense of morality. What a dreadful waste.

For a moment Nikolai wondered what could be done with a Tyrant's body and his brain. The thought made him smile a dark smile as a nearby computer flashed in alarm. Rolling the chair over he typed a few commands into the consoles watching Jill Valentine appear on the monitor. Slowly moving her way towards the room just outside the computer room glass.

Why not have a little fun?

Dimming the lights slightly behind him, Nikolai moved to stand in front of the glass. A smirk appeared easily on his lip as he watched the S.T.A.R.S officer step into the room. It wasn't long before she saw him, and fired a round at his head.

"Hi, bitch," he said while lifting a hand to wave through the cracks of the bulletproof glass. Of course, Jill couldn't hear him, but hopefully, she could read his lips.

She could, judging by all the angry shouting. The sight made him smirk even more as for the first time in a while he felt happy. Then Nikolai felt something dripping on his shirt, as Jill looked at him with pure fear.

Well, not at him.

"Oh fuck," was his only whisper as he turned to stare at the monstrosity that was Mr. H. 

It was an abomination and nothing less. Long serpentine body covered in an insect like-exoskeleton, with horribly malformed clawed hands running down the sides of its body. All across its emerald skin were…faces. Humans, mutants, and whatever else it had eaten were etched into its skin. Then it lowered its head to Nikolai's and he wanted to scream.

It was triangular like a snake, with a long split running down the underside of its jaw nearly a foot down its neck. Three different color eyes on each side of the face, locked on Nikolai's reflection on his face. Quills, mimicking hair, ran down the back of its head nearly halfway down its body.

The Umbrella Special ops soldier glanced behind him, thinking maybe Jill would save him.

She was long gone, and he was alone with Mr. H. For the first time in his life, Nikolai prayed.

….

"What is with the eyes?!" Ben asked, staring at the remains of the mutant zombie cyclops things Nem left in his wake. "All of them have this giant bloodshot eye and it’s very unsettling."

"And the weird tumors of 'oh my god' stuck to the walls aren't?" Leon asked, sweeping the sides and waist-high water with his rifle.

"It doesn't help the ambiance much…" the reporter muttered, holding his small revolver tight in front of him. He was very careful to keep the barrel pointed down.

"How…far?" Nem asked, leading the way, having no problem navigating the dim lighting of the tunnel. Every so often a mutant would charge, bulbous, misshapen, and brimming with hunger.

They made good outlets for the growing anger inside me.

"Hard to tell. Whatever this stuff is," Ada waved at some of the growths on the wall with her gun, "is giving me interference."

It was at that moment a Cyclops came roaring out of the water. 

"Shut up!" Nem shouted, his voice shaking the air as a vicious uppercut pinned it to the ceiling. Blow after blow rained on the trapped Cyclops skin, bone, and organ shattered under his knuckles. Until finally a clawed spearhead was rammed through the middle of its chest. 

"Feel better?" Nem heard Ada ask him. Deep breathing made his shoulders slowly stop shaking and trembling in rage.

"No." 

"Hey, FBI Agent, do you know where that mad doctor is heading with the girl?" Kendo asked his head on a swivel, shotgun at the ready.

"Yeah, wh…we need to get there first. Be there waiting with a trap and a cure," Ada responded, mind working fast as she planned. "We need to move straight.”

"Work smarter not harder, my daddy always said. When he wasn't taking naps of course," Kendo said with a small grin.

Any other conversation stopped when the group found themselves in a large chamber. Lights on the wall illuminated piles of those weird growths all around them, the stench of decaying flesh mixed with the smell of the sewer and long decades of bile and grime.

"Are you sure it’s straight ahead?" Leon asked, covering his nose at the smell. "Because I would honestly prefer any other direction."

"Yeah, this was the way I traveled, though it was less…" Ben trailed off, trying to find the appropriate phrase as they stepped into the chamber.

"Lovecraftian hell of ugh?" Claire suggested, keeping her weapon at the ready as something bubbled in the corner. 

"That's perfect for my book." Turning around suddenly Ben raised his pistol, trembling in fear, at the dark tunnel behind them. "Did you hear that?"

"Man please why? The worst thing you could have said in this situation," Leon said, moving to the back, assault rifle at the ready. A high-powered flashlight cut through the darkness, as ripples spread toward them.

Large ripples.

"People, we need to move, now," Leon nearly shouted, pushing Ben forward, never taking his rifle off the tunnel. Slowly backing up, Nem came to stand beside the rookie with his Mare Leg at the ready while Ada made it to the platform at the other end of the room.

"What the hell is that?" Leon asked as something shambled into view.

"Find…the…girl…."

The GX Tyrant was here.