Reanimated Humanity
folder
+M through R › Resident Evil
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,133
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
+M through R › Resident Evil
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,133
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Resident Evil, and I do not make any money from these writings.
Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, and I do not make any money from these writings.
Author: RaveEchidna
Resident Evil 5- Reanimated Humanity
Chapter: 2
The gunman walked slowly down the street his eyes sweeping over everything mentally engraining the lay out of the shanty town in his mind. He didn’t like it. No thought had gone into the slapped together construction. Tight allies, narrow streets, awkward open areas.
A loud scream from an air raid siren devoured all sound, it was piercing and unnatural enough to turn Chris’s blood to ice. He swallowed his head tipping up to look at the sky one hand pressed against his forehead to protect his eyes from the sadistic sun. The sky was painfully blue mostly clear expect for the storm that still lingered ominously on the horizon. At his feet an abandoned radio crackled and raved in angry sounding gibberish. All life had stopped it seemed, the streets emptied only a pair of crows picked at the heat bloated carcass of a goat.
“Where did every one go bingo?” Chris uttered without realizing it, his tone a perfect echo of certain sandy hared agent that had stood in an empty village of the damned in Spain.
Sheva frowned her lightly accented voice rang out with the flat comment. “Not funny.”
Under their feet the bone dry ground cracked, small clouds of yellow dust. Flies buzzed and hovered around animal carcasses that had been left strung up and dripping. The meat was already displaying the putrid rainbow of rot. The only sound was their footsteps and breaths.
-I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.¬- Chris continued forward the lack of sound crawled under his skin. –It’s too silent.- He had been in the field too long to be fooled into thinking silence was safe. Silence was the precursor to disaster. –I didn’t see a single kid on the street or a single woman looking over the shop stalls, if this doesn’t turn out to be some kind of trap, I’d be amazed.-
The butchery shop looked to have at one point in time been a sound building, now Chris was positive that had the structure been on American soil it would be deemed condemned and a health hazard. His stomach rolled as they grew nearer, the smell of death, blood, and animal shit slapped him across the face. –It’s 2000 and fucking 9! Why the fuck are people still living in this kind of filth?- He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. The gun man took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The old slab of wood creaked on mismatched hinges, the brutal light of the sun poured into the nightmarish butcher shop. Chris’s eyes drifted over the crude work place, the hanging bodies of goats and other live stock. Blood dripped slowly to the dirt floor turning the once parched sand into a deep burgundy mud. He took care to avoid the blood. He narrowed his eyes letting them adjust to the dark interior.
“Good. You both arrived, thank Allah.” Reynard Fisher did not walk he waddled his slightly sunken eyes narrowed as cruel long gash of a mouth almost turned up into a smile. He pivoted and opened yet another door his arm waved ushering them into real slaughter house. “Come, quickly.”
Chris could hear Sheva’s even steps as she moved behind them. The lighting was no better in the back, sunlight filtered in through partly boarded up windows under their feet fragments of bone crunched. A goat locked in a small stall unknowing what fate awaited it bleated out a greeting.
Fisher’s head moved as wry eyes checked the room. “It may be because of the new government, if you can call this new sect of overly zealous gun waving monkeys that people around here are a little on edge. May Allah forgive them for what they have done. You should hurry and accomplish your mission and go home.” His last few words were broken by a dry rattling cough.
“Yeah, they really roll out the read carpet for us Americans,” Chris grumbled his dark eyebrows knitting almost together. He would never understand why his government kept sending its people into hostile environments where Americans were looked upon with the same favor as lepers.
“I so not have much in the way of extra goodies for you but what I have you are free to use.” The aging man waved a wrinkled hand to an inconspicuous box. “Extra ammo, first aid, nothing much as I said but we beggars can not be so picky, and we need to thank Allah for all we are given.”
Chris stepped carefully to the box; he was hesitant, his information on Fisher wasn’t enough to make him all that comfortable in relying on him. His religion of choice didn’t help foster any kind of trust either. –You’re not supposed judge someone by their supposed imaginary friend in the sky Chris. You know better…- He nodded his head and opened the box taking note of what was in side. –He wasn’t kidding.-¬ Two dusty boxes of ammo and a medical kit that looked like it had been packaged in the seventies. He snagged one of the boxes and the kit, he wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of having to depend on anything from it, but he knew that in the heat of the moment beggars could not afford to be picky.
“I suggest that you take this time to settle your gear check it and make sure that you are ready. We don’t have much time the operation is already underway.” The heavy set man shook his head his slightly sagging jowls jiggled.
The dark haired gun man didn’t shift anything other then the placement of his own weight. He watched both his contact and his new partner his fingers itching as he saw her handle her pistol. It was clear that she at least understood how to field strip and tend to her gun, however he wasn’t impressed. Even Rebecca knew how to clean and maintain firearms, hell so could that Kevin guy that used to pop wood at the idea of even being looked at with favor by a S.T.A.R.S. member, it didn’t mean she knew how to use it or was good enough to trust at his back.
A small smile spread over Sheva’s full lips, she had felt the eyes of her partner on her. –I can handle myself.- She turned slowly to face Fisher because clearly the illustrious Redfield wasn’t going to bother asking the important questions. “What are the destination coordinates?”
A thinning and graying eyebrow arched the sour expression never left his face. –Allah save us, they send us a cowboy American and a rookie woman that has not the grace to cover her self.- The eyebrow sank as he motioned with his hand. “The town square up ahead.” One of his thick fingers thrust at the back door. “Go through there, Alpha team is waiting for you at the location of the deal.”
The female agent nodded her head her pistol slid back into its tight nest. “Good.”
-No damn girl, not good, you are walking into something that could turn in hell its self do you not see that?-Fisher cleared his throat. “I would not be so quick to use that word, girl. Tell me what do you know of the Uroboros?”
“Isn’t that some kind of alchemical occult symbol? The snake that eats its own tail?” Sheva asked her head tipped slightly a look of confusion spreading across her face.
Chris froze what little information that the BSAA had about the Uroboros project was extremely well guarded and took clearance that even he had to pull strings to obtain. “Not much. Mostly it’s just rumors, shit whispered about only when the lights aren’t on, a real doomsday project.”
Both hands were brought up and tossed in the air. “Doomsday sounds about right, may Allah save us. If what sources tell me is true then it is much more dangerous than rumor.”
She looked back and forth between the two men her arms crossed and the small smile she had been wearing only moments ago vanished. “You are joking right? No one really makes anything like that!”
Fisher huffed. “You’re still too new girl have you lost your milk teeth yet? Clean out your ears and listen while the adults talk. All of our leads, our sources, point to the man known as Irving. I know he has the reputation of weasel, but he is all we have.” He turned taking a few heavy steps only to stop in mid stride. “And for the love of Allah be careful.”
His lips parted one hand reached out but Chris closed his mouth and turned away from Fisher. He had a feeling the man didn’t want any kind of advice from an American Dog or whatever the hip slur of the moment was, besides he had enough to worry about with out trying to offer words of wisdom to an older man. His attention focused on Sheva. “Remember, no matter what happens we’re a team in this. That means we stick with each other always and watch each other’s back.”
Sheva rolled her eyes and fell into step with the large bulk that was Christopher Redfield. “Don’t worry, I may not be as big as you, but I can still hold my own.” She added a little extra swagger to her step her hips rolled suggestively. “I’ve been handling guns since I was twelve, combat is nothing new to me.”
Author: RaveEchidna
Resident Evil 5- Reanimated Humanity
Chapter: 2
The gunman walked slowly down the street his eyes sweeping over everything mentally engraining the lay out of the shanty town in his mind. He didn’t like it. No thought had gone into the slapped together construction. Tight allies, narrow streets, awkward open areas.
A loud scream from an air raid siren devoured all sound, it was piercing and unnatural enough to turn Chris’s blood to ice. He swallowed his head tipping up to look at the sky one hand pressed against his forehead to protect his eyes from the sadistic sun. The sky was painfully blue mostly clear expect for the storm that still lingered ominously on the horizon. At his feet an abandoned radio crackled and raved in angry sounding gibberish. All life had stopped it seemed, the streets emptied only a pair of crows picked at the heat bloated carcass of a goat.
“Where did every one go bingo?” Chris uttered without realizing it, his tone a perfect echo of certain sandy hared agent that had stood in an empty village of the damned in Spain.
Sheva frowned her lightly accented voice rang out with the flat comment. “Not funny.”
Under their feet the bone dry ground cracked, small clouds of yellow dust. Flies buzzed and hovered around animal carcasses that had been left strung up and dripping. The meat was already displaying the putrid rainbow of rot. The only sound was their footsteps and breaths.
-I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.¬- Chris continued forward the lack of sound crawled under his skin. –It’s too silent.- He had been in the field too long to be fooled into thinking silence was safe. Silence was the precursor to disaster. –I didn’t see a single kid on the street or a single woman looking over the shop stalls, if this doesn’t turn out to be some kind of trap, I’d be amazed.-
The butchery shop looked to have at one point in time been a sound building, now Chris was positive that had the structure been on American soil it would be deemed condemned and a health hazard. His stomach rolled as they grew nearer, the smell of death, blood, and animal shit slapped him across the face. –It’s 2000 and fucking 9! Why the fuck are people still living in this kind of filth?- He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. The gun man took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The old slab of wood creaked on mismatched hinges, the brutal light of the sun poured into the nightmarish butcher shop. Chris’s eyes drifted over the crude work place, the hanging bodies of goats and other live stock. Blood dripped slowly to the dirt floor turning the once parched sand into a deep burgundy mud. He took care to avoid the blood. He narrowed his eyes letting them adjust to the dark interior.
“Good. You both arrived, thank Allah.” Reynard Fisher did not walk he waddled his slightly sunken eyes narrowed as cruel long gash of a mouth almost turned up into a smile. He pivoted and opened yet another door his arm waved ushering them into real slaughter house. “Come, quickly.”
Chris could hear Sheva’s even steps as she moved behind them. The lighting was no better in the back, sunlight filtered in through partly boarded up windows under their feet fragments of bone crunched. A goat locked in a small stall unknowing what fate awaited it bleated out a greeting.
Fisher’s head moved as wry eyes checked the room. “It may be because of the new government, if you can call this new sect of overly zealous gun waving monkeys that people around here are a little on edge. May Allah forgive them for what they have done. You should hurry and accomplish your mission and go home.” His last few words were broken by a dry rattling cough.
“Yeah, they really roll out the read carpet for us Americans,” Chris grumbled his dark eyebrows knitting almost together. He would never understand why his government kept sending its people into hostile environments where Americans were looked upon with the same favor as lepers.
“I so not have much in the way of extra goodies for you but what I have you are free to use.” The aging man waved a wrinkled hand to an inconspicuous box. “Extra ammo, first aid, nothing much as I said but we beggars can not be so picky, and we need to thank Allah for all we are given.”
Chris stepped carefully to the box; he was hesitant, his information on Fisher wasn’t enough to make him all that comfortable in relying on him. His religion of choice didn’t help foster any kind of trust either. –You’re not supposed judge someone by their supposed imaginary friend in the sky Chris. You know better…- He nodded his head and opened the box taking note of what was in side. –He wasn’t kidding.-¬ Two dusty boxes of ammo and a medical kit that looked like it had been packaged in the seventies. He snagged one of the boxes and the kit, he wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of having to depend on anything from it, but he knew that in the heat of the moment beggars could not afford to be picky.
“I suggest that you take this time to settle your gear check it and make sure that you are ready. We don’t have much time the operation is already underway.” The heavy set man shook his head his slightly sagging jowls jiggled.
The dark haired gun man didn’t shift anything other then the placement of his own weight. He watched both his contact and his new partner his fingers itching as he saw her handle her pistol. It was clear that she at least understood how to field strip and tend to her gun, however he wasn’t impressed. Even Rebecca knew how to clean and maintain firearms, hell so could that Kevin guy that used to pop wood at the idea of even being looked at with favor by a S.T.A.R.S. member, it didn’t mean she knew how to use it or was good enough to trust at his back.
A small smile spread over Sheva’s full lips, she had felt the eyes of her partner on her. –I can handle myself.- She turned slowly to face Fisher because clearly the illustrious Redfield wasn’t going to bother asking the important questions. “What are the destination coordinates?”
A thinning and graying eyebrow arched the sour expression never left his face. –Allah save us, they send us a cowboy American and a rookie woman that has not the grace to cover her self.- The eyebrow sank as he motioned with his hand. “The town square up ahead.” One of his thick fingers thrust at the back door. “Go through there, Alpha team is waiting for you at the location of the deal.”
The female agent nodded her head her pistol slid back into its tight nest. “Good.”
-No damn girl, not good, you are walking into something that could turn in hell its self do you not see that?-Fisher cleared his throat. “I would not be so quick to use that word, girl. Tell me what do you know of the Uroboros?”
“Isn’t that some kind of alchemical occult symbol? The snake that eats its own tail?” Sheva asked her head tipped slightly a look of confusion spreading across her face.
Chris froze what little information that the BSAA had about the Uroboros project was extremely well guarded and took clearance that even he had to pull strings to obtain. “Not much. Mostly it’s just rumors, shit whispered about only when the lights aren’t on, a real doomsday project.”
Both hands were brought up and tossed in the air. “Doomsday sounds about right, may Allah save us. If what sources tell me is true then it is much more dangerous than rumor.”
She looked back and forth between the two men her arms crossed and the small smile she had been wearing only moments ago vanished. “You are joking right? No one really makes anything like that!”
Fisher huffed. “You’re still too new girl have you lost your milk teeth yet? Clean out your ears and listen while the adults talk. All of our leads, our sources, point to the man known as Irving. I know he has the reputation of weasel, but he is all we have.” He turned taking a few heavy steps only to stop in mid stride. “And for the love of Allah be careful.”
His lips parted one hand reached out but Chris closed his mouth and turned away from Fisher. He had a feeling the man didn’t want any kind of advice from an American Dog or whatever the hip slur of the moment was, besides he had enough to worry about with out trying to offer words of wisdom to an older man. His attention focused on Sheva. “Remember, no matter what happens we’re a team in this. That means we stick with each other always and watch each other’s back.”
Sheva rolled her eyes and fell into step with the large bulk that was Christopher Redfield. “Don’t worry, I may not be as big as you, but I can still hold my own.” She added a little extra swagger to her step her hips rolled suggestively. “I’ve been handling guns since I was twelve, combat is nothing new to me.”