Resident Evil: Resurrection
folder
+M through R › Resident Evil
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
3,672
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+M through R › Resident Evil
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
3,672
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Resident Evil, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
VOLUME TWO
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
VOLUME TWO
Queen vs. Queen
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
9:22 a.m. Monday
Imagine a woman, the human female embodiment of a junkyard dog, as cold as a nuclear winter but with greater intelligence than any of the men that would have created the originating nuclear bomb … and then imagine a timid little mouse that got unlucky enough to be born as a man, also with a mind capable of things most men couldn’t even imagine let alone execute on their own.
Those are my parents.
Don’t get me wrong, my childhood was great compared to most all children born during these dark times, but I’m still selfish enough to have wanted more. I had all the toys, books, computers, entertainment and free space to run around in that I wanted. I could eat whatever I wanted, wear whatever I wanted, and I was the one that dictated when playtime was and when bedtime was. But… I would have gladly given all that up for a few more hugs from my mother or more father-daughter time. I think I can safely say that in my entire lifetime, with all the little seconds and minutes added together of how much time I have spent with my parents, it doesn’t even add up to a month.
That’s okay though, I guess. They’re really not great parents. I love them both to bits but they suck at the child-rearing thing. My dad is better than my mom, at least. When I was very little, I remember sitting on my father’s lap while he worked. In those small spare moments that he set aside for me, he would read paragraphs of the driest scientific textbooks in the world to me, and I couldn’t get enough of it, simply because he was paying attention to me and reading to me. He would stroke my hair and speak in a very calm, pleasant voice… I think I had more of a soothing effect on him than he did on me, but it was a symbiotic experience and we both liked it. Those stopped happening when the fights started getting really bad with my parents… and then… That Day happened.
We don’t talk about it, my parents and I. When my parents talk about it, it’s called That Day. I think they believe that if they don’t talk to me about it I’ll eventually forget or perhaps question if it was ever real and therefore grow up to become an undamaged, healthy whole human being that never experienced That Day. If I ask them about it I get blank stares, or they suddenly have work to do, so I don’t ask – I’d rather have them and the elephant in the room stick around than be alone again.
My name is Cosette. Lame, right? I think it’s kind of cool, though, to have a name that nobody has had for the last zillion years.My mother doesn’t have a nickname for me, but nor does she call me by my name… honestly I think she might have forgotten what my name was years ago and now she just addresses me with a wave of her hand or a nod of her head. My father – who named me Cosette – used to call me Cosy and Coco when I was little, but now it’s just Cosette to him, because I think he feels too uncomfortable with calling me more familiar names… perhaps afraid that I’ll rebuke him for speaking to me on a familiar level when we haven’t seen each other face to face in well over a year at a time before.
This is way too much information. Blah…
So anyways. This is my journal. I amseventeen practically eighteen, and I’m smarter than you are, and I’m more like my parents than I ever want to be. Something cool is happening in the Hive, I can feel it. People are abuzz with things they won’t talk to me about – they always talk to me about all the goings-on in the Hive and the latest gossip – and my regular attendants have stopped showing up to ‘look after me’ with inane tasks like making my bed or trying to cook food for me that I don’t like or will never eat. Something is up. Here inside my quarters my computers are humming as usual, my fish are bubbling away in their tank, and soft background music is droning… but I can feel it in the air, a tension that creeps right through walls and floors and sealed windows.
I’m gonna get dressed and see what’s up. Back later.
12:17 p.m. Monday
So I found out a little bit. Daddy went to America (thanks again guys for this wonderful Extinction we’re facing), and came back with some kind of survivor man. Everyone is afraid of the survivor man, but even more so of Daddy. I’m kind of proud of him, actually. I never thought he had it in him to do something this cool. Mom thinks he’s gone insane with loneliness and guilt, but I know that she overestimates how much ‘damage’ Daddy took from the divorce and ‘missing her,’ and she’s equally to blame in the guilt department as he is but she projects it all onto him to make herself feel better. Daddy is just fine. He’s a little bit creepy with the way he interacts with Violet Queen, but he’s otherwise fine.
Speaking of Violet Queen; I don’t really like her. I have to write out this whole journal in pen and paper records because if I wrote any of this on my computers, I know she would snap it up and read it all herself, and something about that rubs me the wrong way. She’s just a computer, I know, but she’s taken a vested interest in me since That Day and while nobody else seems to have noticed, I have. I don’t like her, I don’t trust her, and I certainly dislike her relationship with my father. God, I sound like my mother. Ugh.
Lets start again.
Violet Queen is… she’s the scariest kind of super villain trapped inside the body of the sweetest, most innocent looking little girl you’ve ever seen. I don’t think even Violet Queen knows that yet, but I can see it. Right now she’s in that stage where she’s trying her best to help everyone and do everything right by all she’s looking after, but eventually she is going to realize her power and I don’t think that will end up well. People are gonna die. It makes me wonder, though, what will happen to Daddy. He can do no wrong by her and I think – I would be mocked for saying this if I ever said it aloud because ‘computers can’t feel’ – I think she loves Daddy.
I’m hungry. More later.
6:40 p.m. Monday
I’m writing this quickly something has happened everything is peaceful too peaceful the music Violet Queen is playing over the sound system in my room is suddenly a little too calming and there’s no more noises coming from the hallway outside my door. Violet’s cameras are all pointed at me as I write this and they’re trying to read what I’m writing so I have to do it fast but I heard the click-whirr of my doors being locked and I think the Hive has gone into lockdown. Did survivor man and Daddy do something bad? I’m so worried. I can’t sit here and do nothing I have to go see Daddy. Will have to get around Violet but that won’t be a problem; I could program ten Violets in my sleep, she’ll never know I’ve left my room. More later when I know what’s going on. I wonder if survivor man is cute? We’ll find out shortly…
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
What a change from the regular storyline! Please let me know what you think, and as always I appreciate reviews and comments! Thanks all! -Flawed Sapphire
VOLUME TWO
Queen vs. Queen
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
9:22 a.m. Monday
Imagine a woman, the human female embodiment of a junkyard dog, as cold as a nuclear winter but with greater intelligence than any of the men that would have created the originating nuclear bomb … and then imagine a timid little mouse that got unlucky enough to be born as a man, also with a mind capable of things most men couldn’t even imagine let alone execute on their own.
Those are my parents.
Don’t get me wrong, my childhood was great compared to most all children born during these dark times, but I’m still selfish enough to have wanted more. I had all the toys, books, computers, entertainment and free space to run around in that I wanted. I could eat whatever I wanted, wear whatever I wanted, and I was the one that dictated when playtime was and when bedtime was. But… I would have gladly given all that up for a few more hugs from my mother or more father-daughter time. I think I can safely say that in my entire lifetime, with all the little seconds and minutes added together of how much time I have spent with my parents, it doesn’t even add up to a month.
That’s okay though, I guess. They’re really not great parents. I love them both to bits but they suck at the child-rearing thing. My dad is better than my mom, at least. When I was very little, I remember sitting on my father’s lap while he worked. In those small spare moments that he set aside for me, he would read paragraphs of the driest scientific textbooks in the world to me, and I couldn’t get enough of it, simply because he was paying attention to me and reading to me. He would stroke my hair and speak in a very calm, pleasant voice… I think I had more of a soothing effect on him than he did on me, but it was a symbiotic experience and we both liked it. Those stopped happening when the fights started getting really bad with my parents… and then… That Day happened.
We don’t talk about it, my parents and I. When my parents talk about it, it’s called That Day. I think they believe that if they don’t talk to me about it I’ll eventually forget or perhaps question if it was ever real and therefore grow up to become an undamaged, healthy whole human being that never experienced That Day. If I ask them about it I get blank stares, or they suddenly have work to do, so I don’t ask – I’d rather have them and the elephant in the room stick around than be alone again.
My name is Cosette. Lame, right? I think it’s kind of cool, though, to have a name that nobody has had for the last zillion years.
This is way too much information. Blah…
So anyways. This is my journal. I am
I’m gonna get dressed and see what’s up. Back later.
12:17 p.m. Monday
So I found out a little bit. Daddy went to America (thanks again guys for this wonderful Extinction we’re facing), and came back with some kind of survivor man. Everyone is afraid of the survivor man, but even more so of Daddy. I’m kind of proud of him, actually. I never thought he had it in him to do something this cool. Mom thinks he’s gone insane with loneliness and guilt, but I know that she overestimates how much ‘damage’ Daddy took from the divorce and ‘missing her,’ and she’s equally to blame in the guilt department as he is but she projects it all onto him to make herself feel better. Daddy is just fine. He’s a little bit creepy with the way he interacts with Violet Queen, but he’s otherwise fine.
Speaking of Violet Queen; I don’t really like her. I have to write out this whole journal in pen and paper records because if I wrote any of this on my computers, I know she would snap it up and read it all herself, and something about that rubs me the wrong way. She’s just a computer, I know, but she’s taken a vested interest in me since That Day and while nobody else seems to have noticed, I have. I don’t like her, I don’t trust her, and I certainly dislike her relationship with my father. God, I sound like my mother. Ugh.
Lets start again.
Violet Queen is… she’s the scariest kind of super villain trapped inside the body of the sweetest, most innocent looking little girl you’ve ever seen. I don’t think even Violet Queen knows that yet, but I can see it. Right now she’s in that stage where she’s trying her best to help everyone and do everything right by all she’s looking after, but eventually she is going to realize her power and I don’t think that will end up well. People are gonna die. It makes me wonder, though, what will happen to Daddy. He can do no wrong by her and I think – I would be mocked for saying this if I ever said it aloud because ‘computers can’t feel’ – I think she loves Daddy.
I’m hungry. More later.
6:40 p.m. Monday
I’m writing this quickly something has happened everything is peaceful too peaceful the music Violet Queen is playing over the sound system in my room is suddenly a little too calming and there’s no more noises coming from the hallway outside my door. Violet’s cameras are all pointed at me as I write this and they’re trying to read what I’m writing so I have to do it fast but I heard the click-whirr of my doors being locked and I think the Hive has gone into lockdown. Did survivor man and Daddy do something bad? I’m so worried. I can’t sit here and do nothing I have to go see Daddy. Will have to get around Violet but that won’t be a problem; I could program ten Violets in my sleep, she’ll never know I’ve left my room. More later when I know what’s going on. I wonder if survivor man is cute? We’ll find out shortly…
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
What a change from the regular storyline! Please let me know what you think, and as always I appreciate reviews and comments! Thanks all! -Flawed Sapphire