Chapter Text
The Umbrella command center was abuzz with the sound of computers, keyboards, and information sharing, all nearly a decade ahead of what should be possible. Monitors that showed a live feed, biometrics, and street views on full view. No one seemed to care about the carnage they saw on those screens—the dead tearing through the living, cries for help unheard as their bodies were eaten. It was like a scene from hell.
Not a single person in that room gave it a second glance.
Each person there was the best in two things. Their respective fields and keeping their emotions under control. Umbrella was not the place for good people. The generous paychecks and constant fear of termination helped as well, not to mention the heavily armed guards at the door.
A hiss came from the door as it slid open.
"Report." The small man in a black hazmat suit ordered, walking into the room as the guards saluted him. His voice was evident through the voice box on the outside of his suit. No one knew who he was, and no one was brave or stupid enough to ask. All they knew was that he was a high ranking member of Umbrella command, a severe germaphobe, and was called Mr. Y. He was one of the brains behind the Tyrant program. Why he worked for a company dealing in chemical weapons and viruses was confusing to most of the staff.
"Sir, Nemesis is en route, and we have teams surrounding the city a mile out. Currently, no infected have passed the checkpoint." A tech informed as they watched through a vest-camera as a U.B.C.S. member blew the head of a stumbling infected.
"Any reports from inside the city?" He asked, keeping his gloved arms behind his back.
"The last report from Squad Leader Mikhail said that they had landed and were prepping for civilian extraction. Once they have completed that, they will search for Dr. Bard, sir," A different tech answered, bringing up photos of Mikhail's team.
"And Nikolai? Is he ready for data analysis of the Nemesis assets?" He asked, running a gloved finger across the top of a nearby console, and seeing it spotless gave a subtle nod. The console tech gave a small sigh of relief. He didn't want to end up a 'volunteer' like the last guy.
"Yes, sir. But sir, we have information that Nikolai has buyers lined for the data as well. Should we move him to 'imminent termination’ status?" The tech asked, bringing up a photo of him.
"Haha. No need. This works to our benefit. The more people who know about Nemesis, the more people who will want to buy more like him. Just keep an eye on him for now. How are our visual feeds into the city?" He asked, starting to pace back and forth.
"Yes, sir. Currently, our comms are down, but we were able to hack into some of the security cameras around the city. So far, we have Hunters, Lickers, and Crawlers inside the city. The Crawlers have even built a nest on top of one of the substations." He said, bringing up a live feed of the substation just as Crawler babies burst out of a man's stomach. Some of the people in that room went green-faced at that—even the guards.
"Amazing what can be built in mere hours.' Mr. Y said, uncaringly about the gruesome scene he witnessed. 'How many controlled B.O.W do we have in the city right now?"
Taking a sip of water and desperately trying to block out what she had just seen, a tech quickly typing on her screen brought up a dossier.
"Sir, we currently have four Tyrant-series entities in the city on orders or standby and a Hunter-Tyrant prototype, Mr. H ." She said, bringing up a picture of a man with a pale face and what looked like a cross between him, a Hunter on screen. Mr. Y gave the screen a long look, his face hidden behind the darkened plastic of the suit.
"Mr. H. A side project of the Tyrant program. A Hybrid of a Hunter and my beautiful Mr. X. Put a target in him, and he will kill everything to get to it. Even those listed as no-kill. A failure. Why hasn't it been destroyed yet?" He asked anger undermining his voice
"It was scheduled for liquidation today, actually, sir." She answered.
"Incompetence. My bane of this world. No matter, in a few days, everything will be clean in Raccoon City." He let out with a laugh.
"Sir, Nemesis has been unloaded, and we will soon have a live feed from him."
"Excellent. Let's enjoy the show.” He announced just as the feed came online from Nemesis. Only then, a massive blue flash lit the screen, and everything went to static. 'What the hell just happened?!" He shouted as the tech scrambled around him, desperately trying not to look him in the… face-guard.
"Sir, according to the team that dropped Nemesis off, a massive blue lighting strike hit him just as he was coming online." One tech answered, pressing his headpiece against his ear. Hearing this, Mr. Y turned and faced the tech who instantly felt his life flash before him.
"... You're telling me that against all probable odds, a lighting bolt hits Nemesis just as it was coming online, and it was blue?!" He asked, his words so heated it is a wonder his suit didn't melt. Before anyone could say a word, Mr. Y reached over to one of the guards and, with quickness unexpected from someone in a hazmat suit, yanked theBeretta from his belt and pressed the barrel against the back of the tech's head.
"You have five seconds to salvage this. A multi-million dollar asset just went missing, and I want solutions." Mr. Y ordered, cocking the hammer.
"The guns! Umbrellas put a tracker in most of their gear for special ops. They might have put some in Nemesis's special guns." He replied, sweat flowing like rain.
"I don't want a might. I want a guarantee. Find out," He told him, pressing the barrel against the tech’s head before dropping the gun to his side.
"Oh, thank God, " The tech muttered, sighing with relief. Mr. Y brought the gun to the side of the tech's head and fired, spraying the nearby wall with his brains. All the other techs jumped in their seats and looked at Mr. Y, terrified.
"People, God has fucked my day; let us not thank him in front of me. Now someone find my Nemesis!"
…
I wouldn't call what I did waking up but more being born. My entire body burned like ants were rampaging under my skin. Everything felt wrong to me as I sat up from the cold concrete. I felt the ground slightly crack under my hands as I pushed myself up. I tried to open my eyes, but some fabric or something was covering my face. Reaching, I pulled it off with a tearing sound to find it was a leather hood of some kind. Looking down at my body, I found myself covered in leather everywhere, from the long coat to my boots. Here and there was a caution sticker. Over my heart was a large tube where some kind of device was inserted. As I touched it, my fingers caught my attention.
They were raw and burnt looking. Had I been in a fire? Where am I? I tried to speak, but all that came out was a rough groan. I knew I should be panicking, but my emotions felt… diluted somehow. First thing’s first. Where am I?
Rising unsteadily to my feet, I found myself to be a giant. I didn't know the precise height, but I felt around eight feet tall. Taking a look around, I found myself atop a skyscraper surrounded by unfamiliar buildings. Nearby were three significant cases, each easily as big as an adult. And one massive one as big as me. Kneeling next to one of the unopened ones, I pressed the release latch, noticing the word Umbrella on the case as the lid went flying off.
Inside was a massive canister hooked up to some kind of sprayer. Crematorium Flame-Thrower model 2. Those words sprang into my head as I studied the weapon, somehow knowing what it was and how it worked. How did I know that? I thought to myself as I moved to the next case.
Inside this one was a giant rocket launcher. Anti-Tank Laser-Guided Hellion. Next to the bomber were four more missiles, all sealed in canisters resting on top of each other in a hip carrier. What the hell is this? Five bucks say the next one is a gun too, I joked to myself.
Automatic Belt-Fed Top-Grip Revolving Five Barrel Shotgun. It looked like the unholy offspring of a mini-gun and a shotgun, and I loved it. It was about the size of my forearm and had a thigh holster. On top of it the gun where the sights should be was the grip and trigger. And then I saw it on the belt's shiny metallic surface. It would haunt me to the end of my days. My face.
I looked like someone melted a man's face and remade it to be horrifying. My head was completely bald, and half of my face had skin stapled over the right side. I had no ears or nose, and yet I could smell smoke and hear my footsteps. The bottom of my face was just gone. A massive lack of flesh was missing around my jaws, revealing massive white teeth and a raw chin. With strips of skin attached to my shoulders, making me bale to see the muscle below. The only human part of me was one blue eye. I'm a monster. At this, my emotions finally came fully to surface, and I roared.
It was a roar of endless rage, sorrow, and pain. Anger at whatever made me this. The pain that I was stuck like this forever. Forever cursed to be seen as a monster. Some horrid beast only fit to be burned and purged for this world. An unholy abomination. A freak. What was I doing here?!
Find STARS. Hearing this voice in my head, I swallowed my emotions, feeling them become diluted again. I took a deep breath and collected myself. So far, I knew two things. Something called Umbrella has info on me and sent me here. And I am here for something called Stars. Walking to the edge of the building, I looked down at the street, slightly marveling at my vision despite having only one eye and saw… hell.
Fire, corpses, ruined buildings, and people eating other people. Not people. Infected. Somehow I knew most of those people down there were already dead, and yet in defiance of the natural order they were still walking. Cries of help and pleas to God so loud that I could faintly hear them even this high up. They don't deserve this. No one deserves this, I thought, clenching my fists in rage. Turning it back, I quickly moved back to the cases.
Wrapping the belt around my waist, I grabbed the holster for the shotgun and strapped it to my right thigh, securing it on my waist holster. Picking up the tank, I secured to my back and placed the sprayer on the left side of the tank. Finally, I slung the rocket launcher over my right shoulder so it rested against the shell. I put the extra rockets on my left hip. While I suited up, I noticed the lid on the case I came in. Nemesis.
Growling, I walked to the edge of the eight-story building and looked down. Despite the height, I knew I would be okay from a fall from this height. First job: find STARS, whatever that was. The second job: ruin Umbrella. They wanted a Nemesis; they would get one. Umbrella, your Nemesis is coming. And with that, I stepped off the building.
…
It was safe to say that Brad Vickers was not having a good few days. He had just gotten done saving his team, or what was left of them, from the old Spencer Mansion. And it seemed like the very next day when bam zombie apocalypse. And Brad, being a real reasonable man, was doing what he did best. Running like hell to save whom he could.
Have to get to Jill! This just the kind of shit Umbrella would use to tie up their loose ends, he thought to himself as he ran down the street, dodging undead when he could and shooting their legs out with his nine-millimeter. He wasn't able to save his friends last time, but this time would be different.
Despite his main occupation of flying the helicopter, which he desperately wished he had, he had run the S.T.A.R.S obstacle course enough times. He was in the top ten. So maneuvering through the wreckage of the city wasn't that hard.
"That being said, only ten people used that damn thing." He muttered, crawling under a downed building sign as flames and wreckage dotted the sidewalks and road. It was pure chaos out there. And the scent. All he could smell was death, rot, and sewage. He knew this is what hell must smell like.
"That being said, I think I’ve been lucky. So far, I haven't run into any mutants or god-forbid another one of those Tyrant things." Brad said with a slight chuckle. Just then, a roar echoed above him. It was loud; it was piercing; it was tyrannical.
"... Brad, we are going to learn to shut up one day, I promise," He told himself as he started to run, just as a horde of zombies appeared around the corner.
"Going around," He decided as he turned to run down an alley only for some horrid skinless monster to drop down on all fours from the wall in front of him. Oh God, I can see its brain! What the hell is this thing?! Why does it need a tongue like that?! He thought terrified as he backed up, firing at the creature's exposed brain. If this was hell, then this… Licker thing was surely a demon. It just seemed to ignore the damage as it scuttled after Brad, its tongue lashing out at him.
Just as the tongue was about to pierce his eye, Brad stumbled and fell over a piece of debris, causing the appendage to miss him entirely. Still, on the ground, Brad emptied his clip into the Licker to what seemed like no effect.
"Oh, shit!" He exclaimed, reaching to his belt for another clip. The Licker didn't waste this chance and pounced at Brad. I hate my luck. It would have been his final thought if a massive black object didn't come crashing from above right on top of the Licker, causing it to shriek in pain. The force of the impact caused a mini-dust cloud to spring up, blinding Brad for a moment. The next thing he heard was the continuous roars of a shotgun going off. It seemed to last forever before everything went silent.
Opening his eyes and facing the direction of the horde, Brad was shocked. What had once been a group of starving zombies was now nothing more than ground-up pieces of dead meat. Turning to see what saved him caused Brad a moment of intense regret. If the Licker had been a demon, then what he was looking at was a devil.
Standing over at least eight feet tall, it was a nightmare of flesh and violence wrapped in leather. Scattered all over his massive body were weapons of such size and strength, Brad was sure his friend Barry would have fought the creature barehanded for one. Then the monster turned to give Brad a full look at him. Oh crap, another one! It was the stuff of nightmares, just like that monster from the Mansion roof. And yet its blue eye seemed to pulse with… humanity?
But there was no humanity for the Licker as it lay broken under the Monster, clawing and biting the ground trying to move. The newcomer gave the Licker a quiet look before slamming a boot down on its skull, squashing it as easily as rotten fruit. Twisting his boot to make sure it wasn't getting up, the Monster walked over to the S.T.A.R.S pilot.
Moving quickly, Brad reloaded his pistol and brought it up to fire only to pause, dumbfounded. The Monster was offering him his hand up. He slowly lowered his gun but kept it ready at a moment's notice.
What the hell is happening right now? He wondered. The Monster seeing Brad's reluctance slowly raise his other hand and gives him a thumbs up as his face twitch by his exposed teeth.
"Are you trying to smile?' Brad asked the behemoth who just silently nods its head. 'Holy crap I was not expecting an answer." He confessed before reaching and taking the Monsters hand who raised him to his feet with surprising gentleness. Standing on his feet Brad eyed the gun in his hands before shaking his head.
"I gotta be nuts." And with that he holstered his gun as he stood before the Monster who stared down at Brad. Or more specifically, the logo on his vest.
…
There it is! I thought happily seeing the S.T.A.R.S logo on his vest. Shit, how do I ask him? Come on...whatever my name is, just say one word. Raising my hand slowly so as not to scare the man I pointed at his logo. Swallowing saliva, I tried my best to say it.
"St..sta...STARS." I managed to croak out my voice, a deep, terrifying rasp that caused the man to shiver in fear. Holy shit, I shouldn't talk much. I decided to myself. My voice scared even myself.
"..holy shit, you can talk. Wait, Stars?' Repeating the word and staring at me then at his logo. 'Are you looking for S.T.A.R.S?" He asked me. I simply nod at him as I kept my ear open for anymore infected and other dangers.
"Why are you looking for them?"
I shrugged in response.
"How did you get here?"
Shrug.
"What's your name?"
Shrug.
"Oh, sweet Jesus, an amnesiac monster with heavy weaponry.' The man announced as he ran his hands through his hair, thinking. 'What do you know?"
"Umm.Umbrella." I growled out, giving a thumbs down with my hand. Seeing this, the man chuckled.
"Well, that's a boost in my books. Name's Brad Vickers." He introduced himself as he held out his hand. Taking it gently in mine, I shook it lightly. He started to smile before he began to shout.
"Oh shit, Jill! Can you help me get to my friend?!' He pleaded with me. I didn't hesitate a moment before nodding. Right now, Brad was my best shot at answers, and I wasn't about to let him out of sight. 'Thanks. Follow me she lives a few blocks from here." He said, turning around and running while I easily kept pace a few steps behind him just by walking. Oh dear God, I have the walking speed of a slasher. I realized as I followed the STAR member.
…
Back inside the Umbrella control, there was silence all around. The techs were silent like prey when they were around a predator who had just woken up. Afraid that any wrong moves could mean their death. More than one glanced over at where the co-worker had been terminated earlier. The wall had been made spotless minutes after his..firing. If Umbrella knew one thing, it was how to clean up.
While Mr.Y was quiet as he pondered what he had just seen on the large monitor attached to the wall at the other end of the room, a tech had managed to find him through a security camera just outside the building where Nemesis had been deployed. And it was luck it only took a short while to find Nemesis just shortly after they lost him. To the endless relief of the techs in the room.
"Amazing.' Mr. Y admitted out loud. He was talking more to himself than the techs. 'Simply amazing."
"Sir, wasn't Nemesis's mission to hunt down S.T.A.R.S member and not save them?" A tech asked in a moment of lunacy she would never be able to explain.
"Oh yes, that was the original plan. But this offers so much more possibilities than simple combat data.' He said, folding his gloved arms behind his back.' Look at what we have seen so far intelligence, reasoning, and above all, communication skills! So far, he has demonstrated to be above his predecessors in this regard!" All the other techs we're too afraid to mention the fact free-will usually came with such intelligence.
"But, we still need combat data.' He said as he rubbed one gloved hand against his visor. 'How long would it take to deploy a Tyrant?"
"Sir, 2 hours."
"Too long. What about Mr. H?" He asked, causing the techs to go pale.
"Sir, we can have Mr.H ready to go in fifteen mins and deployed in another ten minutes." A tech answered, bringing up Mr.H containment pod.
"Excellent, and he is close by too. Get him running and program targets into him."
"Yes, sir. Loading S.T.A.R.S roster into Mr. H." A tech said, typing away at their keyboards.
"No. Load Jill Valentine as a primary target.' He corrected the techs. 'Tell Nicholai of this development and other Overseers in the area if we can. Now let's see what happens when we make him a bodyguard." At his command, the techs went to work.
So my creation, you want to play the hero? Well, what good is a hero with no damsel?
….
Underground in a high-tech prison, a creature was stirring. It's form hidden in the dark waters of the continent pod. Just then burning eyes crimson as blood appeared in the waters. Followed closely by a massive set of serrated chipped teeth set in a predator smile.
Jill Valentine. Kill