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Waking up everyday seeing the ghosts of the past would terrify anyone. This was Chris Redfield after the events of the Spencer Mansion…better known as the Arklay Incident. It took time to get use to the ghosts in his apartment: Enrico Marini, Richard Aiken, Forest Speyer, Kenneth Sullivan, Joseph Frost. He thought that leaving Raccoon City would stop the hauntings. On how wrong he was. Rockford Island highlighted this with Steve Burnside, despite his distaste of the man. Nevertheless, he powered through the years, seeing the ghosts. Gradually, they multiplied and grew. He couldn’t escape them – no matter how hard he tried.
Sometimes it overwhelmed him to the point he’d be waking up drenched in sweat, panting as he tried to control his heartbeat. He couldn’t help it sometimes, allowing himself to become vulnerable when he was alone. Things slightly changed when he met his wife, Tyler, someone with a similar background to him. Someone who experienced Raccoon City, unlike him, but was still traumatised by the events and the idea that zombies existed.
They’d help each other through the times when they felt that the world was against them. They had pulled the other out of depressive episodes. Chris had stopped smoking for about a decade, focusing on his future and his health, but that didn’t stop him downing a bottle every so often. On the opposite hand, Tyler had her own demons to deal with. Both were closed off when it came to asking for any form of help.
Their entire mindset shifted after the Dulvey incident, where both were sent in to investigate. The BSAA wasn’t the same place Chris had founded. It wasn’t the same – now being built on the foundations of corruption and bioterrorism. That’s why he created the Hound Wolf Squad. A squad of the elite soldiers who saw through the BSAA’s corruption and plans. Whilst Chris still worked for his founding organisation, his focus was on his team.
The team didn’t know the true extent of how much the ghosts of his past affected him. Not until Ethan’s sacrifice. For the Alpha, it brought back the memories of Piers Nivans, his former lieutenant – the one that was meant to take over, the one that allowed him to finally gain the peace he needed. He was the one that was never really discussed amongst the married couple. It affected both of them, but Chris hurt more than anyone expected.
Tonight happened to be one of these nights where the ghosts caught up to the 48 year old. He had woken up from reliving the Spencer Mansion in his nightmares, with the appearance of Piers and Ethan. Sweat dripped down his face, hitting his body as quiet pants escaped his lips. Ahead of him, blurred in the darkness was a figure. It was clear enough to be recognised as Ethan Winters, the man he had lost three days ago.
“You should’ve fought harder!” The figure yelled at him before disappearing into thin air. Shaking his head, he glanced over at his wife seeing that she was passed out like usual. Silently, he stood up out of bed, pulling the covers closer to her before making his way into the kitchen. As he was walking to the kitchen, the light was shining out into the hallway. At first, his soldier instincts kicked in thinking there was an intruder, but relaxed when he heard a tiny voice ‘whispering’ to someone.
When he did get to the doorframe of the kitchen, he saw his young son trying to get onto one of the bar stools. His teddy bear was on the one next to it. On the counter top, was the milk along with the loaf of bread, something he had picked up from his mother. A chuckle escaped his lips as he watched his son begin to pout at the chair, after he failed his attempt to get up there.
His son snapped his head to his father, a guilty look now appearing on his face. Chris wandered into the room, helping the 3 year old onto the stool before sitting on the only free one left, “Can’t sleep, bud.” Whilst it was intended to be a question, Chris always seemed to make it a statement. The toddler gave his father a nod before pulling his teddy closer to him. Chris moved seats so he could lift his son into his lap, “I can’t sleep either.” He reconciled in the boy who snuggled close to his father.
“Piers.” The timid voice from his son commented, pointing over by the darkness. Chris was confused for a moment before his gaze followed the finger to the darkness. Stood, almost like a movie set, with a light shining around him whilst the living room was almost pitch black was Piers Nivans. Well, what appeared to be Piers Nivans. Unlike the previous ghost, he didn’t say anything just smiled at the two. Chris stared at the younger man, an array of emotions overcoming him as he hadn’t seen his face in almost a decade. Soon, that confusion was replaced with a small smile.
That smile was enough for Piers to nod to his captain before disappearing into the darkness. The house was silent – no ghosts falling silent, not clattering, and dehumanising him. His attention turned to his son who was smiling up at his father, “C’mon, we’ll head into the living room and I’ll tell you the story of the man you’re named after.”
Piers.