Something Wicked
14
“We should split up.” Danvers was right, even if Chris didn’t like. They had to do things qui.
“Alright. Take the four cabins on the left. I’ll take the ones on the right.” Chris ran through a quick inventory of weapons in his head. No where near enough.
When it came to Umbrella accidents, no one could have enough ammo. Still, fate had a strange way of leaving it in weird places. Chris was positive he would find some more, somewhere.
Pay Pay attention,” Chris warned. “Those things can come out of anywhere. If you find any secret passages, come back and get me.”
“Secret passages?” Danvers looked skeptical.
“Trust me, there’s at least one.”
“Alright.” Danvers started off towards his cabins, then stopped. Chris waited as the man turned back around and walked towards him. The Sheriff was reaching in to his pocket.
What is he…?
“There’s something else,” Danvers said, pug oug out a photograph. Chris took it, glancing at the picture. Four teenage boys were smiling at him.
“My son. He and his friends….They went out tonight. I think that they’re somewhere out here in the woods.”
Oh god. That was not good. Chris closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“I’ll keep an eye out.” What else could he say? He had already told Danvers how dangerous the bio weapons were. He had already told the man about the nightmare incidents at Raccoon City and elsewhere.
The other man nodded, looking grim. They set off to their separate cabins.
This sucks. He wanted all of this to be over with. Why is it so hard to bring White Umbrella down?
People weren’t stupid. Why couldn’t they see what the corporation was doing? Were there that many demented people in the world that they could manage to hire no scientist with a conscience?
Don’t think about it now. Just focus on what your doing.
Chris approached the first door warily. His finely developed sense of danger was screaming at him. When he finally got close enough to the door he understood why.
It’s been kicked in.
He held his gun at the ready, using his foot to open the broken door. He glanced around the darkened cabin. It was a lot bigger than it looked from the outside.
The inside looked ransacked. There were bunk beds, but the bedding had been thrown off. The mattresses were torn. Papers were strewn every where. The two desk were over turned, their drawers on the floor.
Chris leaned down, grab a notebook from the floor. He flipped it open to find a journal entry.
…. This place is Hell. Reminds me of the summer camp my parents sent me two in 8th grade. The one where all the kids picked on me for being a nerd. Too bad I can’t remember all their names. Wouldn’t it be fun to see them eaten by…
Chris flipped a few pages. Like I need that. He wasn’t about to start sympathizing with the psycho scientist. Nerds are the only ones with rough lives.
….Jack is almost done. He’s beautiful. Umbrella’s finally going to take notice of us….
Jack? Chris scanned the pages, flipping back and forth to see if he could find another mention of “Jack.” There were only progress updates. Nothing about what Jack was, or what he could do?
“Fuck.”
“Oh I wn’t n’t worry about Jack.”
Oh shit. How did I miss…
“Well, well. Did you miss me Chris?” Wesker asked, stepping out of the shadows and grinning wickedly.
“Hell no!” Chris raised his gun, but it was already too late. Wesker had moved. So damn fast. He had a hold of Chris before the gunman could even blink.
“Really Chris, you should know better.”
Chris’s eyes fluttered shut. He wondered if he could keep them that way. Maybe if I wish hard enough. He wanted to wake up back at the safe house. He wanted all of this to be a really bad dream.
Instead he was forcefully reminded of reality as Wesker threw him out the door.
He skidded across dirt and gravel, landing on his stomach. He scrambled to get to his feet. A foot caught him in the ribs, rolling him on to his back.
Wesker straddled his hips, pinning his wrist to his side.
“Be a good little by and just lay there quietly.” Yeah, right, Chris thought sarcastically as he struggled to get free. It was useless, but he wasn’t just do nothing.
Wesker let out an exaggerated sigh. He casually back-handed the man beneath him. Chris winced as a sharp stone tore in to his skin.
Great. I’m bleeding.
“Oh Christopher,” Wesker cooed. Chris watched guardedly as the man reached out to touch him. He flinched as fingers touched his head wound. It didn’t really hurt. It was just…
“Poor, poor Christopher.” Someone who hated you shouldn’t touch you so gently, Chris thought hazily.
Of course, Wesker also seemed to be psychotically obsessed with him. Maybe that little detail changed things a little.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Huh?