The sense of the presence was now burning into Malconin's mind. He could feel that he or she...no, definately she, was close. He knew exactly who it was now, and knew exactly how to deal with her. He stopped, flattening himself against the alley wall until he was hidden in shadows.
With a nod of satisfaction, he smiled as three figures came into his view, one of which was looking around as if searching for something, at one point she even looked directly at him, though he knew she had no hope of actually seeing him.
"She can sense something," he whispered to himself. "Very good."
Malconin retraced his steps somewhat and slipped down another alley branching off to the side, intending to cut them off before they reached their destination, but he had not even gone halfway down the alley when a gun barrel pressed against the side of his head and a figure detached itself from the shadows.
"Going somewhere?" Asked a familiar voice. "You weren't intending on having all the fun without me, were you?" A smile curled familiar lips.
Malconin reached up and slowly lowered the gun barrel. "You are getting good, Drake. Your enhancements are coming along very well, if you are able to sneak up on me without me noticing." He held up a finger. "But don't get too cocky. I was distracted, had I not been concentrating on something more important, you would have found yourself flat on your arse."
Opening up the doors, a well-known stench greeted the trio, the scene becoming all too familiar to the group. Blood stained every square inch of the place, bodies collapsed against walls and doors, some with cut wrists or stabs to the eyes with whatever sharp object had been lying around at the time. A few had been hanged, others coming to an untimely demise by falling light posts, metal poles piercing through still beating hearts. The people in the station, a little less than a hundred had all either killed themselves or died gruesomely, no death exactly alike. The only similarity…the one thing they all held in common, was a solitary bullet hole visible in the center of each forehead. Obviously, someone who had a firm grasp on reality and an idea of what was going on was responsible for the shots.
Paul closed his eyes, leaning against a wall to catch his breath. In a not so splattered corner, Raine took the opportunity to retch horribly, the small dinner from the night before coming up. Chrys stood in the massacre, her complexion having grown slightly pale by the scene. It was disturbing, the pointless death of so many people, the loud orchestra music echoing throughout the station, masking screams or any calls for help. ‘A Massacre Melody…a suicide sonata.’ At her last thought, it finally struck her, the name of the song playing in the background.
Taking out her lighter and Salem cigarette, she lit it quickly, letting out a steady flow of smoke. “I hate irony…” she muttered, her tone dead. Paul glanced to her from the side, his back to the scene. She took a long drag before continuing. “Irony Paul, it’s ironic. The song in the background, Beethoven’s 9th Symphony…Ode to Joy,” It was one of the few classical pieces she knew, that along with Fur Elise, her cell phone ring tone. Her tone turned bitter as she dropped the cigarette, burning it out as she grinded her foot hard onto it. “It’s either someone’s idea of a sick joke or a screaming irony. Either way, it’s horrible. Someone went through all the trouble of doing this-”
“And I think I found who.” Raine weakly cut in, wiping her mouth with a disgusted expression. She motioned to the end of the hall, closing her eyes tightly as she did so. She breathed deeply, reluctantly turning to what she had been pointing to.
Chrys and Paul quickly glanced to each other. They walked down the hall warily, trying to keep the gruesome images out of sight. Stopping at what Raine had been pointing to, they found it was a dead man holding a gun to his head, a hole in the side long having stopped pouring blood. Stooping down with a grimace, Chrys looked to him, something striking her odd. She shook her head. “He didn’t kill them, he didn’t even kill himself.”
Raine had trudged over to the two, looking to the man entranced. “What do you mean? He’s the only fellow with a gun around here.”
Chrys shrugged. “So what? You’re telling me this guy decides to shoot everyone around here with that one gun, then turn it on himself? What would be his motivation, too little pay? If that’s the case how in the hell could he afford a near fifteen hundred dollar gun?” Taking the gun from his hand carefully, she cracked open the barrel, frowning. “The bullets in his gun would’ve made a bigger bullet hole, that’s my first point. Second point,” She placed the gun to her temple. “If I put a gun to my head and fired, besides being dead, the gun would’ve left a burn mark on my temple. But that’s missing from this stranger,” She carefully placed the gun down on his chest. “No, what we have here is a carefully orchestrated set up, not sure what it all means though.”
Standing up from the man, Chrys stopped in place, de ja vu entering her mind, a feeling of someone other than her two companions around her. It was different this time, she knew it wasn’t her imagination, they were being followed. Closing her eyes, she blocked out all voices, the rising crescendo of the music, the stench of death around her. It took her a moment before her paranoia kicked in on full. It wasn’t a ‘they’ that was being followed. Only one of them was the target. Starting to finger her beretta’s trigger, she gulped, hoping she was wrong. ‘I’m the target.’
Stroking the barrel of her berretta roughly, yet slow, she let out a breath. ‘Screw paranoia, this is instinct now. Someone’s following me but for what is the question. Why such a desire to get to me?’ She scoffed. ‘Desire. Now I’m flattering myself-’
“Chrys! Chrys, snap out of it!”
Opening her eyes, she noticed Paul standing in front of her, shaking her shoulder with a hint of worry. She smiled, sighing. Not wanting to worry him, she decided not to mention her suspicion. And also, it would make her seem more paranoid than she already was if she had thought wrong. ‘Though, if I’m right…’ She glanced to Raine, her index finger to her bottom lip as she thought. ‘I can’t risk having these two around if it comes down to a confrontation. Can’t shake the feeling they’d be use against me.’
Suddenly taking out her beretta, she started to walk down the hall in the hopes of finding the stairwell, her thoughts still focused on her realization. She cocked the gun, her face anything but friendly. ‘And I would hate to be the son of a b*tch who pulls some sh*t like that against me,’ In her current mode, she was heavily on her guard, not willing to risk getting snuck up on and because of this, her stone faced expression was now intact. She motioned Raine and Paul after her. “Come on, let’s speed this up.”
Kicking open a stair door, she waited until the two had caught up. After a few minutes of talking, she managed to convince them of what she thought was a dumb ass idea, but a risk she was willing to take. They would split up, one covering the basement, the other, the middle floor, and the final person checking out the highest level in search of the main broadcasting room.
In all truth, Chrys chose her floor specifically because she knew the room would be on that floor. She kept this from the others though. She didn’t want to risk someone other than herself getting hurt if she truly was a target. “Alright, we all head to our floors. If there’s too much of a crowd around your area, make your way onto someone else’s floor or leave the place,” Breaking her stone stature temporarily, she squeezed Paul and Raine’s shoulder encouragingly, a half smile on her face. “Good luck. Try and contact someone if you find a working intercom and try to stay alive, eh?” The group smiled to each other, nodding in agreement to their tasks. Making small salutes to each other, they split up into different areas of the blood covered, melody filled building, wondering what exactly was in store…
"Her name," Malconin replied, "Is Chrys...and somehow, she managed to kill one of my creations...I did not think that was possible, for the person she killed was particularly strong."
Drake nodded. "And how does she fit into all this?"
Malconin smiled. "That is irrelivant. A mute point. Although I haven't decided to kill her yet, I intend to use her in some way. No one messes with what I create bar me...especially when she has cost us what she has."
"A key," sadi Drake scowling.
"Exactly, though, the door is still unlockable yet."
Drake's brows shot up. "More secrets brother?"
"More secrets," Malconin replied with a nod. "You never believed zombies could exist before this happened, right?"
Drake nodded.
"Then start believeing in the super natural, my friend. Because the enhanced being she killed still exists...he exists within me." Malconin could see the disbelief on his friends face. "Oh, I know how it sounds, but I am telling you, I have absorbed the spirit of this man. Take a look at me, brother. Do I not look bigger, stronger, healthier? Do my eyes not shine with renewed life amidst all this destruction?"
Malconin tapped his chest. "Whether or not my creations die, the key will still exist...in here."
"So, why dont we just kill them all...wouldn't it be easier to have the key within one person?"
Malconin shook his head. "I'm not sure if I could handle all the spiritual energy involved...It could kill me. Hence the reason why I don't want to kill any of them...I would have done so long ago otherwise."
Malconin drew drew his katana's. "I tire of explaining this...let us get on with this. Your team mate Paul is within," Malconin motioned to the station. "You will keep he and Raine occupied while I confront Chrys."
"I will not kill him," stated Drake seriously.
Malconin smirked. "I asked you to distract, not kill. If I had wanted him dead, again, I would have done so long ago. Now come, let us have a bit of fun."
Malconin set off at a jog towards the station building.
(I'm giving up on Travis and Lianne, I'm taking up another, more dangerous character and heres his intro. Hope you dont mind if I step in as another created one...and the semi-baddy)
Hollow footfalls haunted Crys' steps, every time she turned to see who was following her the steps would cease and then begin from an entirely different direction. A small hiss came from right infront of her as she'd turned to look once more and a lizard like man landed softly infront of her, he smiled, exposing his fangs, "So...you've come to find me Crys? I'm impressed that you even made it this far." His voice was melodic and deep, with a tinge of danger edged in it.
((OOC: Nah thats fine be good to have a new character and plus its your Story lol))
Bildo was taking the long way round to the apartment because all the direct roads seemed to be blocked. "Ok Shalimar you go to sleep if you can hehehehe" Bildo shouted back in to the bus. He swurved and weeved in and out of parked and burning cars and vehicles. He could speed up now because Drake was not on the roof anymore.
30 mins had past and shalimar still could not sleep so she walked to the front of the bus and broke a standing pole " i could use this then she ripped of the bottom of her slevless shirt and and rapped it around the pole for grip.next she went next to Bildo so where are we going. may be well can find a safe base in this city.
"Well we are heading back to the apartment to get Roxanne, Erica and Jack. Then I have no idea about a base but the bus could be a moving base or we could leave the town or anything, I dont really know."
Bildo said a looked round quickly only to see them beautiful yellow eyes, He quickly looked back at the road so nothing bad happened and just as he did the bus pumeled a zombie in to the ground. "Oooppps" Bildo said as the bus bumped.
They went round the corner and Bildo knew Shalimar was still sat just behind him. Just then he saw a figure in the road and just as he went to put his foot down to sqwish it he got close and saw it waving its arms. "OH SH!T" Bildo shouted slamming on the brakes and the bus went skidding towards the figure. As the bus grinded to a halt Shalimar and Berina moved forward hard into the seats infront. "We all ok" Bildo said and as he did the figure came to the door " Im ok" both the ladies said at the same time. Bildo hesitated for a bit then infront of the bus a mass crowd emerged. *Tap Tap Tap* Went the door then Bildo pulled the lever and the door hissed and opened, then walked in......................................................................................................
"Thanks for picking me up Im outta ammo so I was stuffed" said a man but Bildo reconised him S.T.A.R.S uniform Bildo looked at him then he looked up. "Roger" Bildo said and then the guy walked up a shook his hand in a special hand shake. "God Im glad to see you Bildo, you got any Beretta mags spare" Roger said curiously as the door closed behind him. "Yeh I do mate" Bildo dug in his pockets and handed him a couple of clips, then took the MP5 off his back and handed it to him "and this" Bildo said handing him all the mags for the MP5. "Well this is the crew at the mo" Bildo said nodding to the others, starting the bus up and heading for the crowd infront.
(Nope, don’t mind at all. Interesting to be hunted by such a motley crew of characters…)
Chrys stopped at a silver door, her face holding a shadow of fatigue from the fifty flight trek up the stairs and into the middle of the T.V. station. She waved Paul ahead to continue onto the last floor, blowing a small kiss in his direction. She waited until he had gone before pausing for breath, leaning to the cool metal door. Even though she was normally in the best of conditions, she found she hadn’t fully recovered from the pummeling received by her…no, she wouldn’t call him that, it seemed to good for a man like him.
Her hands holding onto the weapon in her hand tightly, she checked to make sure it was loaded, snapping open the barrel. Everything seemed in order, so without further hesitation, she pushed open the door, a grating sound heard of metal against marble. The sight before her was for once, peaceful, everything with a lobby look. Black marble floors, olive green marble walls, fluorescent lighting, and the ‘joyful’ music continuously playing, a cool breeze felt in the hall and the air surprisingly clean.
Readying her gun, Chrys raised it to shoulder length, checking each direction. It was weird for everything to be so jolly go lucky blood free, and her paranoia now at its peak, she wasn’t willing to take any chances. Downstairs, she had felt the presence of a strong force, someone who could easily take her down. Now in the middle of the building, she felt something strange, malevolent but unknown. Then a voice, a constant whisper in the back of her mind, everything wasn’t as it seemed, and what she thought was reality was but an illusion.
‘Losing my mind…slowly but steadily.’ Lowering the gun, she walked off to the left, trying to not glance around too much at hisses heard overpowering the music during small power surges, the brief moments of darkness causing a shiver down her spine, her face not revealing her current emotions. The curiosity…the fear…and the excitement. While she would have preferred it to be the other way around, she after someone else, she knew it would lead towards some sort of confrontation. And the thought of a fight always excited her little by little, the adrenaline rush before it being the best part.
Turning a corner, footsteps were clearly heard around her. She whipped back, finding nothing but turned around just in time to receive a sinister hiss to her face, a lizard like person standing before her…no correction, towering over her. He bore what looked to be fangs, a smile crossing the reptilian features of his face, his voice, surprisingly melodic, a threat hidden behind its baritone beauty. “So...you've come to find me Chrys? I'm impressed that you even made it this far.”
Not wasting any time, she raised her weapon up to the creature, figuring this was the second figure stalking her footsteps. Cocking her weapon…or to be more exact, her shotgun, courtesy of Paul after a few minutes of convincing, her face became unreadable, her voice, ice. “I’m impressed you even know my name…” She lowered the shotgun, a brief annoyance in her eyes. “And by the fact that I’m having a conversation with a six foot something lizard. Tell me, you’re one of those enhanced beings but you’re still male, correct?”
Looking to her as if the answer was obvious, she took the beings silence as enough as she lowered the shotgun, her finger dangling from the finger and the opening of the weapon nearly touching the floor. Suddenly, her grip tightened around the handle and in a swift strong movement, she swung the barrel in an uppercut, catching the lizard man hard between the legs. It was a sneaky thing to do, something she hadn’t resorted to since her teenage years, but it was surprisingly effective at times. Lizard man said nothing, stunned by the attack which brought great amusement into Chrys’s eye.
“Cause…you can be as enhanced as you want, but you’re still a guy so chances are that hurt like f*cking hell,” Chrys winked, starting to run off as fast as possible to a beige wooden door. ‘And chances are, I’ve just been granted with a 50% percent more painful death than before.’ Sliding to the left, she pulled open a dark green door, wincing as the sound of the first door was heard exploding off its hinges.
Chrys concentrated on ignoring the footsteps behind her, her focus on making her way to the room. She had prepared for this more so than even the original mission, memorizing the lay out of the station by heart, knowing it would be her last destination. It would have to be for what she was going to do, what she had planned to do, what she would be killed for, it could be called ingenious or stupid on her part, but either way, it would work.
A hack job. A real time, live feed, broadcast hack job of the four Umbrella files combined into one, shown over the air and to the world. She had thought of it as a little idealistic herself but considering the unearthly beings and events she had seen and been through over the past few days, anything was possible.
Reaching a hall with six doors to each side, she pushed open a door near the very end, once inside slamming it shut, forcing her breath to relax as to not attract attention to herself. The room around her buzzed with life, terminals merrily humming, blue with the current emergency broadcast system in effect. Others had just turned to fuzz, but most were intact, supplied by the best satellite system orbiting the earth. Umbrella’s, they would supply a constant feed to the dead city, they supplied the world.
Snapping her fingers, she tapped her foot lightly on the grey carpet, looking around for a computer. ‘There you are!’ She treaded softly across the ground, sitting down onto a swivel chair in front of the screen. Placing one CD in at a time, she worked steadily, once finished with her first task her eyes gaining a devious hue. Pushing herself to a workstation, she cracked her knuckles before connecting a laptop pried from the fingertips of a shot worker into the terminal.
The next process she couldn’t rush, despite the less than time giving circumstances. She typed into the computer hastily, biting her lip as she worked, her pace picking up as she felt the footsteps of the lizard being plodding, growing closer with each passing second. Turning off any noise on the laptop, she checked over the screen, a matrix of orders and commands, all that was required being a push of the enter button.
‘Let’s see if I’m as good as I think I am,’ Raising an eyebrow, a bead of sweat across her forehead, she tapped the key lightly, the reaction instantaneous. The screen lit up brilliantly, numbers and letters blitzing across the monitor as the terminal connected to it started to go through a seizure of the same sort. ‘Come on…work already,’ She was growing nervous, the footsteps closer, now merely toying with her thought process. The multiple flashes of light seized suddenly, a box popping up with three words that made Chrys have to force back an ecstatic squeal.
Uplink Successful. Continue?
Dancing around in her seat, she nodded her head to her own beat, ignoring the classics as she plodded on with her objective. Now that she had successfully managed to make a connection to Umbrella’s satellite, gaining a temporary hold over one of the most powerful companies in the world, she figured she have to work fast lest she get caught.
Quickly placing in the four CD’s she had collected over the night into the terminal, she narrowed her eyes as she worked on seaming them together, making sense of the garbled background, everything scan across in a documentary type filed, the beginning of the last riddle playing through her mind. ‘Everything all comes together as everything starts to fall apart…is that what it all means? I win and lose at the same time, in the end…shattered by a twist of fate? Or am I thinking too deeply on the subject matter?’
Knowing she didn’t have the answer, she frowned, her eyebrows furrowed. A small line moving beneath the screen stopped her worry, causing her to turn up the speakers, blocking off the music to allow the video to be heard in full, a harmonious echo filling the station. The images on the screen were moving fast, zooming out and showing a man who seemed to have had a once glorious look about him. Badly in need of a shave, he sat, bourbon poured into the smallest of cups as he spoke in a dimly lit room. He wore a crumpled white business shirt, suit jacket thrown over the brown tattered sofa, a small wooden table to his front, his voice hypnotic, across every monitor in the room.
Sighing heavily, he continued on with his speech, the first half having been missed by the anxious Chrys. “It’s a common cliché…heard everywhere, from movie to book or anything silly of that nature. Greed corrupts…the foolhardy and selfish relying on it, reaching their demise. But what of power? Is it not the same?” He picked up the bourbon, the glass lovely in his grasp. “What…what happens when a company, what happens when comrades build up a company from the ground up, one that takes a hand over the world, spinning it on it’s axis, controlling the actions of people…cities…countries? What happens when people, without realizing it start to rely on this one company for everything, bowing down unconsciously, unknowingly? The answer is all around you, the logo visible on computers, on medicine, probably on the god damn screen being watched as of now.”
*continuation...yeah, I need to stop w/ all this...
Pausing, he took a meaningful sip of the liquid, his eyes turning glossy. “Umbrella…they are the best at what they do…at what they’ve done. Putting up an innocent as water façade for the public eye, hiding what’s been done with money, bribery and pay-offs, the most trusted of officials, the once wisest of leaders,” Disgust filled his tone. “Turned into nothing but lapdogs, mere sheep coming to Umbrella’s every beck and call. Was it always like that…?” His voice asked the question in wonder, the answer visible in his eyes. He placed the cup onto the table, folding his hands into his lap, looking directly into the camera, piercing green eyes with grief the only visible emotion.
“We weren’t…it wasn’t,” He sighed. “Was it wrong to want better things? Is it wrong to want to improve the wellbeing of the world, not taking consequences into thought, your drive being the only thing that mattered, the thought,” His voice broke, rage starting to fill his tone. “The idealistic f*cking thought that screwing with the human race would truly be an improvement? Is that what we were brought onto this planet for, to screw with the foundations of earth, to advance into a race of new beings? It was a dream, nothing but a dream, a few lives meaning nothing, a small drop in the bucket compared to what would be accomplished, what could be done.”
Laughing, he leaned back into the seat, shaking his head. “Humans…we truly are selfish, not caring about what…anything we do unless it directly affects us. Experimentations were done, a complex virus in the works, innocents who had probed too deeply into our business unwillingly submitting themselves to science. The early stages were highly flawed, the only thing coming from it being bio organic weapons,” Smiling ruefully, he leaned forward. “For all those non scientists, zombies, an outbreak, the destruction of the first Raccoon City…we, Umbrella…only managing to cover up our footsteps by destroying them.”
Smirking, he picked up the glass, swirling the ice in the liquid. “Come now, a town run by Umbrella and a reactor destroys it? Not likely…what will be our excuse this time? A time bomb by a mad man, terrorist have decided to strike, an earthquake at a cataclysmic level-” Shaking his head, he refilled his cup with a brown bottle. “Got carried away in the moment, couldn’t help but to mock them, the best excuse having been used. I work for Umbrella, I’m one of them, why do I suddenly care?” He poured in the whole bottle, not pausing at the liquor overflow.
“My sense of morals appealed to? No, it’s the product of my anger, a cold blind anger. It’s the product of what happens when my wife is involuntarily given to science, her humanity snatched away, her life mangled, her mind destroyed, her sole goal being to kill or be killed. Which she was…Umbrella called upon their little lackeys, their UBCS pawns. It was over within seconds. But…” he emptied the last few drops of the liquid before smashing it into the ground. “The surprise factor…the audacity factor, was the nerve they had, sending me my wife’s remnants, so neatly burned to a crisp, black tainted dust, a wedding ring the only memory left.”
Choking up on his words, he let out a cry, running a hand through his hair. He soon recovered, wiping away tears and lifting his glass to the camera. “To my former comrades, perfected, at least so they think. You may be highly modified but a virus is still a virus in the end. To my life, my wife, may we meet soon enough. Lastly, to my daughter, Elizabeth Ann Taylor, may you not have to know the dangers of Umbrella. May you know who you are,” Downing the liquid in one gulp, he set the glass down hard onto the table, tilting his head as he gave one last look ahead. “I’ve said my share and now shall leave the rest to my research.” The camera gave the man one last look before fading into dark, then back to images of deep in Umbrella, a slow unveiling of the company.
Leaning back, Chrys shook her head, eyes closed. Preferring the music to the rest of the feed, she cut off the speakers in the station, allowing them to be filled with Beethoven’s Symphony once more, the monitors playing the video to the world. The whole thing had come off as convoluted, interesting but boggling. She understood the underhanded parts of Umbrella, she knew of the viruses and their development, but a question arose in her mind. “Who’s Elizabeth?”
Unable to shake the feeling she knew of the child, she carefully closed the cover of the laptop, letting the video run for as long as possible. Or for whenever Umbrella finally disconnected her from the satellites. After all, they wouldn’t want their goody two shoes image tarnished.
A loud ringing suddenly erupted from the room next door, unusually high in pitch. Chrys got up from the seat, shotgun over shoulder and peered cautiously into the next room. Stepping in, on a table she found around thirty telephones ringing simultaneously, but something struck her as odd. Listening in, she smirked, coming to a conclusion.
It was an illusion, while all the phones looked to be ringing, sounded as if they were going off, only one was whining, the rest serving as doppelgangers. Placing a hand over each, she trailed her fingertips near each handle, trying to feel for a vibration of any sort. She stopped at a black phone, running her finger down the handle, the ringing steadily felt.
Picking up the phone, she put it up to her ear without thinking. Making a face, she figured she’d be professional. “Chrysantheum Stonewell, how may I be of service?”
The voice on the other end breathed heavily into the phone. They stopped, speaking in a chill tone. “Chrysantheum Beatrice Stonewell, plodding into territory where you should have stayed far away. It could have been avoided but even you must realize it. You’re way in too deep to get out now.”
Not a trace of fear could be heard in her voice or seen in her eyes but she felt it starting to well up in her heart at hearing what she already knew spoken out loud. “I was in too deep the moment I accepted my job. And this mission for that matter. Will I die? Possibly, but not by you or any other bastard out there. I intend to at least make it to thirty.”
“Such high expectations.”
“It’s how I get by,” Looking to Paul’s shotgun, she felt herself grow annoyed. “You’re not the one following me so I expect more than sarcastic comments from the mysterious voice on the other end of the li-”
“Did you enjoy killing him?”
Chrys paused, narrowing her eyes. The call had at first been annoying, but it was slowly starting to get to her. She spoke coolly. “You mind being a bit more specific, stranger? After all, I am a soldier, that’s one of the things I do.”
“My apologies, Ms. Stonewell, I should clarify for your innocent soul. Well, not that innocent. With a less than buttercup past, you’re not exactly the sweetest character and I’m sure asylum time didn’t help that. Did you enjoy killing your stepfather…your father? Did you enjoy killing Kaseus…?” the voice mused, waiting for her reaction.
‘And I’m officially freaked the hell out,’ She knew of only one Kaseus but the thing that struck her as odd was she was the only one he had told his name to. ‘Guess he bullsh*tted me about that too,’ Adjusting the phone over her ear, she decided to play dumb, just in case. “Who’s Kaseus?”
The voice laughed. “Kaseus Alexander Rosewood known as simply Ice to his team. Your commander Chrys, don’t play stupid, it’s never worked for you. Tell me, did you enjoy it when you finally killed him? Was it almost as good as when you-”
Chrys hung up the phone almost automatically, having a sick feeling she knew the rest of the sentence. Out of all the events of the days, the zombies, the lickers, prowling G-types, getting beat by her father, getting stalked by experiments, by far, the thing that most disturbed her was the phone call. The one innocent phone call, a stranger who knew too much.
An opening door interrupted her thoughts, getting rid of her anxieties and causing her to focus on the task at hand as she ran from the room by a second exit. ‘Operation, escape from Lizzie has now come into play…’
(OOC: Apologies for the length, but I figured I might as well just get that out of the way…)
Malconin and Drake ascended the fire ladder on the western side of the building quickly, moving at extra-ordinary speed thanks to their enhancements. Soon, they had made it to a door and blasted their way into the building with Drake's shot gun.
Malconin placed a hand on Drakes shoulder. "Wait!" he hissed. His brow furrowed. "There...there is another presence here...it is after Chrys...but it cannot be...it is!"
Malconin pushed past Drake and bolted down the stairs. "We must hurry!"
"What the f*ck is it now? I thought you wanted her dead."
"Not by his hand," Malconin yelled back. "He has changed."
"Who has changed?"
Malconin didn't answer, as he barged through another door and crashed headlong into Paul and Raine, sending them all sprawling in a mass of arms and legs. Malconin roared in frustration as Drake helped him to his feet. Once back upright, Malconin yanked Paul to his feet.
"If you value your life and that of Chry's, then you will follow us as best you can without question."
Drake was hoping more and more that they would hurry up and find something to kill. He was pissed off. He had questions that needed to be answered, and the fact that his enhancements were playing with his mood, making him a bit more irratable wasn't helping. As they ran down the hall towards whoever or whatever they were going to find, Drake planted his elbow firmly into the wall, trying to vent some of the agitaion. The hole the he made was far bigger then it should have been. He would enjoy these enhancements the next time he fought some of the bastards.
As they rounded a corner, Mal ran straight into Paul and Raine. Drake grabbed Mal by the collar and ripped him out of the pile of flesh. As Mal yelled at Paul, Drake scanned the hall, waiting and hoping to see something wander his way that he could blast.
Chrys ran out into the hall, her main focus being on making it back to Paul and Raine. She stopped in her stops, closing her eyes as she tried to get her mind off of her fears and think straight. She had split up from the duo specifically so she wouldn't have to worry about them being in the way, the last thing they would need is a lizard man chasing them.
"And then there is the other threat...I know there is another after me," she muttered beneath her breath, her eyes showing a vague hint of malice and annoyance, intrigue and threat. This game of follow her from the shadows was slowly starting to piss her off, anyone that had something against her for whatever reason, she wished they would just get over themselves and approach her.
"Alright Chrys, think about this carefully. How will you go about with your next course of action?" Shrugging, she jogged deeper into the branching corridors, weapon in hand, an idea on her mind. Skidding to a stop outside of a blue door, she pulled at the handle, nodding her head as she realized it had been locked.
"Not for long," A loud blast erupted from her end, Chrys blowing off the security panel of the door, not caring that she had attracted attention to herself. Kicking open the door, her impatience growing with each passing second and invisible stares boring into the back of her head, she walked up to over a hundred monitors. After carefully looking into each, the feeling of blowing a hole into the computers came into mind.
To her disdain, she had noticed the lizard man gracefully following her footsteps, taking his sweet time to reach her destination. It didn’t bother her as he seemed more confusing than threatening, her heart not really knowing what he yet had in store for. What did bother her…what was slowly starting to anger her, was the second thing she had seen. It had been a man…no, it had been Malconin. Malconin Valious, the man on from the files. Not one of, the, he was the most important man behind Umbrella, impacting and governing every decision made, the world in his hands.
This man was currently wielding twin katanas, a stranger by his side with a testy expression. In front of the two, walking carefully, an unreadable expression on each face, were none other than her former companions, Raine and Paul. Fingering the trigger of her shotgun anxiously, her face remained cold, her eyes showing her silent fury. Strutting purposefully, she walked over to small microphone. Snapping on every single intercom within her reach, she waited until she had them directly in view before turning on the mike.
Giving a small cackle, she spoke teasingly but cold. “I see you…having fun?” Malconin and his friend looked up, surprised at her voice overpowering the music that had filled the station. “Don’t look that way gentlemen, it really does not suit you. Malconin, you would not happen to be the one after me now would you? What a bastard move that would be…oh however could I know your name?” She started to talk in the voice of one reading a file. “Malconin Valious, one of the big 12 of Umbrella, worked in what seemed to be recon as Umbrella’s head of security, your faked death making it much easier for you to get away with your genetic experimentations…among other things. Though, those are trivial, not of relevance for the moment.”
Chrys narrowed her eyes, drumming her fingers along the lizard mans screen. “You’re not the only one who does their research, after all, with what I’ve done, what I’ve managed to do, I would have to have an idea of what I would be getting into. Though, in all honestly, over these past two days I have very much wanted to meet you. Weird when the prey wants to meet the hunter? But who’s really hunting who if there ever was a hunt at all…”
Clapping her hands, she spoke in a tone devoid of emotion. “Now the cute factor. You’ve seem to have found my comrades. Raine, Paul, hope you two have been well…” She laughed coldly, her face only showing her troubles. “What, was that some sort of desperation move? Try and make me worry by ordering my comrades about? What, feared you wouldn’t be able to beat me without having what you think would be assurance on your side, something to hurt me emotionally? Honestly hope you weren’t expecting me to stand here making threats about what I’d do if you hurt them. I’m the bad girl, I know that would just serve as a motivation to hurt the…dare I say, hostages? That would just make you want to screw with the heroine’s head. See, that’s where there’s a small flaw. Comrades aren’t my weakness, I have none. Do as you wish with them, find me if you can,” She blew a kiss into the mike, unable to look into the camera. “Sweet dreams, gentlemen. Good luck, comrades.”
Turning off the mike, she leaned away from the small black pole in a slow move, her heart beating irregularly at what she had said. Despite what Paul had thought, she could be quite the eloquent liar if the time called for it. And despite herself, she found her anger at its peak, her rage at the current situation having reached its boiling point. With a sudden yell, she took the shotgun and swung it into the cameras, glass flying into the air, sparks and smoke erupting from the chaos that had filled her heart. She didn’t care, she just wanted everything gone, everything destroyed, her rage to be sated. Smashing into the mike and denting the metal, she swung hard one more time before collapsing onto the ground, tears streaming down her eyes.
Pounding a fist weakly into the ground, she looked down with tears calmly flowing past her cheeks, closing her eyes. “Please…whoever the f*ck is watching this scene, over this sick excuse for a town, don’t let him…don’t let him hurt them, the only people in this world I actually have and even care about.” Her voice came out barely a whisper, almost as if she hadn’t spoken at all.
Sniffling, she stood up abruptly, wiping away the tears from her eyes with a vindictive expression. Taking a deep breath, she cleaned any spare remnants of glass from her hair and clothing. Shotgun over shoulder, she exhaled, leaving the room through a side door. She found herself quickly stopped as cool scaly hands wrapped themselves around her neck, a hiss in the side of her ear.
It was the lizard man, it had to be. She didn’t know what to feel, apathy the only thing she could summon having burned out her emotions in the prior room. “See I managed to get myself into your grasp. Pity…so tell me, what exactly is it you want from me?”
"I want you to help me get to Malconin Valious Crys...he seems as much an enemy of mine as he does yours." He flisked his forked tounge across her cheek, making her wince involintarily, "Oh...I'm sorry...do you hate me that much?" He pushed away from her and hissed loudly, "Too bad, missy, seems your words on the PA have stirred Mr. Valious and the small party into action, we wont be alone for long...I advise you make a decision."
"You advise I make a decision..." muttered Chrys, struggling not to vigorously start scrubbing her cheek. She hadn't been expecting him to do that and it had freaked her out slightly. 'Oh great, it's a he now...'
Holding her shotgun behind her head, Chrys analyzed the man, finally narrowing her eyes. "So you want to use me to get to Malconin...is he the one who's modified your look? Gotten himself a dissatisfied customer?" Her voice remained blank, despite her avid curiosity about her new ally...or adversary, she wasn't too sure anymore.
Malconin tsked and shook his head. "Fool of a woman!" He yelled, knowing that Chrys probably wouldn't hear him anyway. "If I had wanted you dead, you would be!"
He spun in a circle, holding his arms out wide, displaying himself as if she could see him through the walls.
"I am not your enemy!" he bellowed. Gesturing to Drake, he added, "We, are not you enemies! I have no intention of killing your comerades!"
"Whatever you do, don't trust the Lizard! Liam is no longer human! He will use you to get to me and he will kill you...this I sense!" His booming voice echoed through the halls of the station.
"Come on," said Drake, "we will be in a better position to help her if we can face this...Liam...face to face." Drake shook his head in bemusement. "Lizard, eh? You breed em' strange brother."
With that, the four set off in search of Chrys, fingers twitching on triggers all the while.