Claire's Capture

This is a short fic that I’ve been meaning to write for years. It’s been rattling around inside my head ever since I played Resident Evil 2 back in 2001. For whatever reason, it’s taken me this long to actually sit down and make it happen.

WARNING: Those who haven’t played RE2 before might not find the same level of enjoyment in this work, as it heavily relies on familiarity with the game itself. The majority of the dialogue in this fic was taken word for word from the game (Claire scenario B). Credit goes to Millers C at gamefaqs who took the time to post the full game script. If I accidentally copy some of his narrative (outside of actual game dialogue) into the story I apologize in advance. I’m pretty good about wording the action in my own way but I do overlook some things on occasion.

Liberal interpretation has been given to Iron’s motive, none if it plot-changing-ly big since he doesn’t have much of an impact on later RE timelines. Mostly the changes are to facilitate my own story telling. The goal is to completely change how a particular scene plays out in the game with as few additions to the dialogue as possible. This piece is unique in that less than a quarter of the dialogue was written by me. I tried to rely as much on the action to tell the story, inserting just enough new dialogue to make the piece work

Hope you enjoy this piece!

Resident Evil: Claire's Capture
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Brian Irons watched the men under him die, one by one. The ill fated officers whom had chosen to place their faith in their police chief had scrambled like panicked ants during a bush fire, their fruitless attempts at stanching the tide becoming entertainment for Irons as he sat, safely in his fortress.

Irons himself was quite assured of his survival plans. His contacts in umbrella had notified him of the choppers carrying Umbrella’s own mercenary unit, the UBSC, into the city. One of those choppers was to pick him up on its return run, a favor he had made sure to secure in advance.

‘More combat data,’ Irons thought, amused by the thought of Umbrella’s move. Like the officers under him, the UBSC soldiers were pawns of a higher power, being sent into unknown territory as cannon fodder to test the effectiveness of the company’s latest advancements in biological weapons.

‘At least they were armed for the task,’ Iron’s reflected. His officers had fare much worse, partly owing to the initial chaos, but also to Iron’s own malicious manipulation. He had made sure that the majority of ammunition and critical supplies were either misplaced or made inaccessible, and relished in spreading misinformation and confusion among the ranks of his own men. Those that fared slightly better he hunted down like game.

If his tenure as Police Captain of the hapless city was going to be brought to a premature end by the zombie infestation, he intended to take the entire precinct with him. Thus far, his plan has been an astounding success.

Currently, however, his eyes were fixed upon the attractive brunette that had somehow managed to defy the horrific odds saturating the now defunct precinct and had made her way into his sanctuary. He had dozed off earlier, and had nearly shot her out of surprise when he heard footsteps drawing near.

“Oh, I'm terribly sorry...I thought you were another one of those zombies.” Irons apologized, lowering his gun. The cogs in his mind spun madly to settle on how he should deal with this unexpected visitor.

“Are you Chief Irons?” the girl asked. She was clad in a black skintight cycling suit, over which she wore a red vest and matching shorts. Brians couldn’t help but notice, despite being startled, that she was very good-looking. There was a distinctively sweet and innocent aura about her.

“Yes, that's me. And just who are you...no don't bother telling me. It makes no difference; you'll end up just like all the others.” Irons quickly said, assuming the same despondent act that he’s been playing ever since the precinct was overrun; the same act that he had used to discourage and demoralize the men who looked up to him for guidance and leadership.

Irons can see that Claire is looking at the unmoving body of the young woman lain out on his desk,

“That's the Mayor's daughter,” he explained. “I was told to look after her, but I failed...miserably. Just look at her...she was a true beauty, her skin nothing short of perfection.”

He paused for a second, for dramatic effect.

“But, it will soon putrify and she will turn into a Zombie within the hour like all the others!

Claire looked aghast. “There must be some way to stop it!”

“In a manner of speaking there is,” Irons said dryly. “Either by putting a bullet through her brain...or by decapitating her completely.” He finished, a small smile tugging at a corner of his mouth. He looked around his room, at the collection of stuffed animal carcasses littering it.

“And to think that taxidermy used to be my hobby...” he said wryly, shaking his head melodramatically. “But no longer! Please, I'd really like to be alone now.”

Yes, alone with his thoughts, which remained fixated on the girl standing before him. Something struck Irons as being familiar about her, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember where he had seen her before. His beady eyes feasted on her gorgeous posterior features as Claire turned to leave. Her appearance had taken him by surprise, and he needed time to make amendments to his plan, perhaps make new additions to it. She will return to seek him, undoubtedly, and when she does, he will be ready.

**************** Some time later ****************

Soon after meeting Chief Irons, Claire made another acquaintance in the form of Sherry Birkin. It took some effort to assure the terrified girl that Claire will do all she could to protect her, after which Sherry and Claire became fast friends, sisterly feelings quickly manifesting themselves.

Sherry was therefore reluctant to part with Claire as she stood at top of the elevator shaft, watching Claire disappear from sight. Claire however was adamant about leaving Sherry in the relative safety of the room they had just checked out, deciding to scout ahead before returning to pick up Sherry.

As she stepped out of the elevator at the bottom, Claire was taken back by what she saw. The room she had just entered couldn’t have been more different from the one she had left Sherry in, a very medieval aura surrounding it. Rusty metal utensils that Claire could only guess were meant to inflict pain or to cut open things were strewn about the place, a blood splattered examination table being the most well lit of the room’s ominous apparatus.

A chilling laugh pierced the darkness, lunging out at Claire, and she suppressed an involuntary shiver. Her grip on the grenade launcher tightened, and her eyes caught the shadow of a large looming figure before a sudden stinging pain lanced through Claire’s shoulder, which had just been hit by a projectile of some sort. She yelped in surprise, and instinctively reached up with a hand and pulled out a syringe from her shoulder. She tried to raise her weapon towards whoever had just assailed her, but suddenly the world became blurry…

“So, you’ve made it this far, not bad, girl.” she heard a familiar voice say before darkness claimed her.

Claire awoke, alarmed and disoriented. Her head felt leaden and dizzy, a sensation she likened to having drunk too much alcohol Friday night at her dorm.

The cold air in the room made Claire aware, in short order, that much of her cloths had been removed, all that remained of her outfit being her underwear. This realization spurred a renewed effort to get up and seek a defensive position, but her limbs felt drained of energy, and she was only able to roll over to one side, to see the face of Brian Irons leering at her.

“I'm not letting ANYONE leave my town, Everyone's gonna die!” he said, a maniacal glint in his eyes. Fear tugged at Claire’s heartstrings as she saw those same eyes roaming over her body, her state of undress suddenly even more alarming.

“Calm down, Chief,” Claire mustered “what happened?” maybe the man was still open to reason.

“Shut up!” Irons shouted, bounding to his feet, very evidently enraged, although Claire had not the slightest idea as to why.

Unknown to Claire; during her period of unconsciousness, Irons had just found out that he had missed his extraction chopper, having spent too much time dallying about waiting for Claire to show up again. A call to his contact in an endeavor to secure another ride had only just proved fruitless. Despair now haunted him, almost as if fate had a sense of irony, as It was those very same feelings of hopelessness that Irons had deliberately instilled on his men over the course of the zombie epidemic.

Claire was to blame, Irons rationalized. Her appearance had changed his otherwise foolproof plan. If she hadn’t shown up, flaunting her cute little ass, if she had returned sooner, Brians could have very well been out of Raccoon City by now. As it was, his entire fury at being left in the dying town was being projected against her.

Claire’s eyes widened as the last of her cloths were ripped from her body, seeing all too well the animalistic lust emanating from Irons eyes. She tried to fight him, but he was too strong for her.

“You’re going to pay for ruining my chances of escape, you redheaded bitch!” Irons said, as he held both of Claire’s arms above her head with one sweaty hand, the other rummaging with his pants. It couldn’t have been clearer what he intended to do to her.

Claire squirmed against him as she felt his cock press against her womanhood. Before she could begin to say anything to reason with him, Irons rocked his hip forward, and she yelped as his thick member forced its way into her dry canal.

“Please, don’t do this.” She begged as Irons began to thrust into her viciously, hurting her immensely with the rough friction of the sex, the lack of lubrication bothering him less than it did her. His crazed state of mind shut out the small discomfort as he raped her.

Claire gave off small rhythmic squeaks of distress as Irons gradually settled into a steady cadence, his portly loins smacking against her inner thighs, his scruffy patch of pubic hair entangling with her own every time he buried himself to the hilt inside her.

‘I have to get back to Sherry,’ Claire thought, even as she was being raped. She had no idea how long she was out but the young girl was still upstairs, waiting for her. Claire must find a way to get back to her.

But that was an impossibility as of the moment, as Irons hands slipped under Claire’s armpits and pulled her up against him. He wrapped her legs around his waist, then grabbed both of her ass cheeks and lifted her off of the table. Claire was unable to fight as her back was pressed up against the cold stone wall. Her own weight helped push her body onto Irons each time he forced their bodies against the wall. The only thing Claire was able to do was prop her hands on his round shoulders, panting as his hairy chest squashed her breasts against her.

The rape lasted for only a few minutes, although it seemed much longer from Claire’s perspective. She felt Irons start to tense, and his thrusting speeding up.

“No…” She begged softly, “please don’t…”

Iron’s ignored her plea, and Claire shut her eyes in defeat as she felt him shudder, and an explosion of warmness flooded into her loins. The police chief grunted blissfully, his spunk spraying into the depth of Claire’s womb. He lifted her off of his cock, and unceremoniously dropped her onto the ground. Claire instinctively scrunched up into a ball, covering her breasts with her arms. She stole a frantic glance around the room, hoping to find her gun or anything to defend herself with, but couldn’t see anything. A chill that had nothing to do with the room’s cold temperature ran up Claire’s spine. Never in her life had she felt so vulnerable and helpless.

Irons grabbed Claire by a wrist and hauled her to her feet. She tried to slap him with her free hand but he blocked the blow, and Claire saw stars as Irons backhanded her, sending her sprawling to the floor. He dragged Claire to her feet once more, and she resisted feebly as he cuffed her hand to a ring protruding from the wall above her head, allowing her other hand to remain free, knowing she couldn’t escape without the keys to the cuffs.

Standing back, Irons looked at his beautiful captive. A faint whiteness was starting to show from under the patch of auburn hair around Claire’s crotch, gravity drawing some of Iron’s sticky ejaculate out of her. The orgasm had done much to calm him down, and Irons was soon back in control of his mental facilities.

Claire could feel a dull soreness emanating from her crotch, and the wetness of the man’s semen starting to dribble onto her thighs. She used her free arm to cover her breasts, her slender thighs squeezed together as she squirmed in humiliation under Irons’ gaze. She looked at him beseechingly.

“Please, why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Irons meanwhile had slumped into a chair in the corner, his chest heaving as he recovered from his sexual exertions earlier. He was no longer angry at Claire, having just punished her for delaying his escape. Now his fury was being directed at Umbrella.

“You couldn't possibly understand what's happened. Those monsters from Umbrella have destroyed my beautiful town! How could they do that to me after everything I've done for them!?” He raged, looking up at Claire, who shuddered.

“So its true, you have been working for Umbrella...then you must know about the G-Virus, what is it? Tell me!” she said, referring to the incriminating evidence that she had happened across earlier that night. Claire’s mind was a blurr, as she wildly tried to talk some sense into the deranged police chief. Irons sighed.

“If you must know, it is the agent that can turn humans into the ultimate Bio-Weapon, superior to the T-Virus in every way. William Birkin is the genius behind the project.” He explained.

“William Birkin?” Claire prompted, seeing a glimmer of hope. Maybe if she offered her assistance to help the Chief in someway he would let her go. Maybe his treacherous acts earlier had been the product of despair and irrationality.

Somehow, the mention of Birkin’s name seemed only to aggravate Irons, and he bounded to his feet and approached Claire once more.

“Stop! No! Please!” she began to beg, recoiling from his advances. Irons only laughed fiendishly.

“I'm sure you've already seen his little girl running around here. Sherry? Isn't it?” He said, easily getting past Claire’s one armed defense, sweeping her off her feet and hoisting her up by both thighs, his cock already erect and posed to enter her once more.

“In case you haven't already figured it out, the monster that's been tearing my precinct apart is yet another product of the G-Virus, The Ultimate Bio Weapon! Umbrella must be trying to cover its tracks, but if I'm going to go, I'm going to take you with me!” He declared, and on that note, began fucking her once more, the semen from his first load providing some lubrication now.

Claire could only close her eyes and tried mentally removing herself from what was happening. Unable to convince Chief Irons to spare her and powerless to fight back, she resigned herself to fate. Never mind that she was completely naked and soiled, Claire prayed for someone to rescue her; Leon, Chris, anybody.

From the moment that he had saw Claire, Irons had always intended to capture and fuck the brains out of her, any sense of decency he may have had having vanished with the fall of Raccoon City and his precinct. He had even considered taking her with him aboard the rescue chopper, perhaps raping her there, and once he tired of her, turning her into the first of his new taxidermy collection.

Now, with the belief that his own fate to have been sealed, Irons wanted nothing but to make the most of it, and brutally drove Claire up against the wall, intending to fuck her as many times as he could before he ran out of food and water or the undead finally overruns this part of the building.

It was amazing what the expectation of death could do to invigorate a man, and within two hours, Irons had cummed six or seven times inside Claire, having started fucking her in the ass as well as forcing his dick into her mouth, making sure she was unable to bite down at all when doing so.

Oddly enough, the more Irons raped Claire, the stronger her mind became. At first, all she could do was sob and whimper in shame, but as the night wore on, her resistance only grew stronger, so that Irons eventually had to cuff both of her hands behind her back, as she would attempt to attack and fend him off whenever he showed a moment of weakness.

“What a lively bitch you are.” He sneered when Claire managed to kick him in his face when he had just finished pulling out of her. She was lying on the table at that point, her hands cuffed above her head. Claire didn’t bother replying, instead aiming a spittle at Irons, which sadly fell short of its mark.

“I had wanted to keep you alive as company for a couple days at least, but my dick is tired now, and you’re not being very cooperating.” He said, eyeing Claire’s pussy and butthole, both oozing with his cum. Something in his head seemed to snap, and he put his now flaccid penis back into his jeans, zipping up his fly.

“You know what? Screw you; I’m going to turn you into one of my puppets.” Irons declared, before going on to describe the visceral details.

“First I will pump you full of narcotics to keep you alive and awake for as long as possible. Then I will open up all of your limbs, carve out the meat, and replace it with stuffing. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to preserve your beautiful skin as well as I can.” He said, to a appalled Claire.

“Then I will open up your stomach and remove all your guts. I might even try pushing your uterus and tubes out through your cunt before stuffing you. I’ll take your heart out after it stops beating, but not a moment sooner. Before I do that I’ll need to saw your tits off, stuff them, and then sew them back on. I you’re lucky you’ll still be around to feel me stick a poker up your nose to remove your brain.”

Terror gripped Claire’s heart as she watched Irons began assembling the tools to fulfill his final twisted fantasy. When he had his back turned to her, Claire rolled herself backwards off of the table, her hands still cuffed to a small length of chain which was attached to a ring on the table. If this was what Irons intended to do to her, she was going to fight him with all that she had left, no matter how hopeless the situation looked. Claire thought of Sherry, who must be worried sick about her, or maybe even given up on her and ran away.

Irons turned around, a dirty knife in his hand. Claire forced herself to stop trembling, and prepared to fight for her life as he slowly circled the table towards her.

A beastly wail was suddenly heard, coming from somewhere very close. Both Claire and Irons stopped dead in their tracks, and looked around for the source of the sound.

It came from the ground behind Irons, and Claire finally noticed that there was a trap door in a corner of the room. Irons had left both his and Claire’s firearms in the next room, having been more worried about Claire getting her hands on a weapon than he had about zombies finding their way to him. Now, armed with only a knife, he cautiously approached the trap door, his body quavering in anticipation.

The trapdoor suddenly burst open, and Claire caught a fleeting glimpse of a massive claw that extended from the shadows. It grabbed Irons before he could even began to defend himself, and dragged him, screaming, back into the darkness beyond the trapdoor. His agonized howling drifted up to her, growing more inhuman as a squelching sound can be heard. The screams degenerated into a gurgle, and just as quickly were cut off abruptly.

Claire stood transfixed to the spot, dumbfounded by the unexpected turn in events. Suddenly, a large mass shot out of the trapdoor, launched straight at her. Claire tried to dodge it, but forgot that her hands were still chained to the table, and simply lost her balance as the mass hit her side, knocking her over. She looked down, and gagged when she realized what the object was.

It was Irons, or at least, it was half of him. His wild unseeing eyes stared emptily up at Claire, a lasting look of terror engraved on his face. His body only went as far as his waist, everything underneath having been ripped away by whatever it was that had grabbed him. Claire nearly puked at the horrific sight.

When she finally regained her composure, Claire saw a glint of some metallic shape sticking out of Iron’s breast pocket. Hope suddenly returned to her, and Claire gingerly used her toes to grab the item, which turned out to be a keychain. She pulled out the entire chain, and breathed a strained sigh of relief when she saw that there was a single key on it, recognizing its design to have been made for handcuffs, of which there was only one pair in the room.

******************* Minutes Later ****************

“Claire! You came back!” Sherry cried out joyously as she ran and embraced the fully clothed Claire, as the latter emerged from the elevator.

‘I can’t believe half of what just happened down there,” She thought to herself, glad that she was the only surviving witness of the wretched encounter, not including the horrid creature who’s timely interference had unintentionally saved her from certain death.

“What’s the matter?” Sherry asked, catching the dark look on Claire’s face.

“Its nothing,” Claire said, giving her a reassuring look. “But I think I found a way out of here. We should be able to find some place safe if we can just make it out of town.”

“But...” Sherry began.

“Don't worry, I'll protect you but you have to make sure you don't leave my side.” Claire said. She did not tell Sherry, but in truth, Sherry’s presence was as much a comfort to Claire as it was the other way around.

With that, the two set out to brave and escape the horrors that lay ahead of them.

End.

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So, what do you guys think? Not too bad right? Please review and comment.