Chapter Text
September 18, 2021. Twinwood, Maine.
Eight months since exposure.
The sound of typing echoed through the small home office, as Chris’s fingers flew across the keyboard. The most recent report was taking forever, despite his team’s best efforts on tying their own individual reports into a consistent timeline that would please the BSAA.
Well, maybe aside from Perlman, who wrote down half a page of glorified nonsense that bordered on storytelling and called it a masterpiece.
Chris shook his head, taking a drag of his cigarette as he leaned back in his chair. It squeaked slightly underneath his weight. He might need to look into a replacement soon. Get something more accustomed to his new physique.
The thought itself made his too sharp teeth ache, not really in pain, but in some alien need that he did not want to humour. Instead, he took another drag of his cigarette, allowing the smoke to drown out the feeling. It seemed to work, but barely.
Still, it was easier now, than it was at the beginning. When he thrust Rose into Mia’s awaiting arms and put the pistol against his temple. The wound on his thigh burned like a brand of some sorts, the ache and the blood only reminded him of what was coming. Years of watching it happen before his eyes did prepare him, it urged him.
So like a stubborn bastard that he was, he decided to go out on his own terms. Or at least, that was the original plan.
It was clean and simple. A bullet to the head, an apology to his sister in his tongue and a pretty image of someone else, burned before his eyes.
That is, until Elba and Berkhoff jumped him.
They knocked him out and took him straight to Rebecca’s laboratory. Despite all protocol telling them to either let Chris end it, or end him. And so, here he was, eight months later, bigger, faster, stronger and deadlier. A B.O.W., fighting fire with fire at the BSAA. Not how he imagined his forties going. Or his life for that matter.
Chris sighed and ran a hand through his hair, he put out his cigarette and focused back on the report. It needed to be sent out by four o’clock, and it was already nearing three. Just as he was about to type in another sentence, his phone rang at his side, making him frown.
“Redfield.” he simply said in a way of greeting.
“Captain Redfield,” the woman replied in a strict tone that used to impress him. Now it was just his reality. “You’re needed at the Headquarters immediately. A private transport has been sent in to retrieve you.”
Chris hummed, not worried for a second but his fingers did twitch for another cigarette. “On whose orders?”
“The Director’s of course.” was all she said in return, before swiftly informing him of the time and place where the transport will pull up. It was outside of Maine, meaning that he’ll need to drive to Vermont to get picked up. Great.
Once that was said and done, Chris tossed back his work phone and pulled out his burner from the bottom drawer. It was an old and reliable flipphone.
Honestly, he kind of preferred it to his thin and all too advanced BSAA issued phone. He wasn’t even using half of that thing’s features, maybe aside from the camera, he liked having photos of his closest people on there.
After turning the phone back on, he immediately called up his squad and Jill, relaying the news through their secured line. Jill was already at the HQ but wasn’t briefed on why they needed Chris.
Lastly, he sent a quick text to Claire.
Chris. (3.04PM)
|| Got called to HQ. Might be going dark for a while.
|| I’ll let you know when I’m back. Stay out of trouble. I love you.
Chris stared down at his phone for a minute longer, not seeing a reply pop up he just sighed and pocketed the phone. He abandoned his report and instead stood up to stretch, already planning what to pack.
Crossing the narrow corridor he headed straight into his bedroom. It was rather small, most of the rooms were, but that was alright. It kept the heat exactly where it needed to be. Not much stuff was inside, just some pictures and curtains, a lamp on his side table with a half read book.
His bed was taking up most of the room for obvious reasons with his new found physique, it was as always tidy with nothing out of its place. A habit that stubbornly followed him from the army, not that he minded too much as he liked it this way, everything had its place and use. Clutter was made for one thing only in Chris’s opinion. Gathering dust.
Pulling out his duffle bag from the top of his ceiling high wardrobe was even less of an issue than it used to be. The bag was already half filled with some essentials, just in case he needed to leave in a hurry.
After Romania, his wardrobe shrinked significantly, as now he needed much bigger clothes. Not only because of his height— Chris stood closer to 7ft than he should’ve—, but because of his sheer extended muscle mass. He was by no means dry and chiseled, as that was never his build to begin with, but he was wide and simply… big. And being this way meant new clothes, which he never bothered to get, or just had a hard time getting.
More than half of his clothes were meant for work, custom made by the BSAA.
And so Chris didn’t cherry pick his clothes, he packed what he needed without having to analyse if any of it would be useful or appropriate. That sped things up significantly. His private weapons already sat at the bottom of the bag, so he didn’t have to worry about that either.
A couple of essential toiletries and one sweep of his home later, Chris was already locking up the door and walking to his truck. The scent of his home, of coffee, cigarettes, and the basil from his kitchen windowsill, began to dim down, causing him to tense up ever so slightly.
His den— home, was an anchor. The only place where he felt at ease, and where he could actually sleep, without having to wrestle with his instincts as they spiked and slowly led him into a wild frenzy. It was the main reason why he moved out of his BSAA assigned apartment in New Jersey, instead relocating to a small town in Maine that had a little over 3,000 people in it.
Claire said that it seemed like a spot out of some horror movie, as Chris’s house was at the end of a beaten path, surrounded by nothing but dense woods, with the closest neighbour living some twenty minutes away on foot. To Chris, it was peaceful and private, to Claire it was the beginning of some murder mystery novel.
“You sure there are no ghosts?” she asked, leaning back on the railing of his porch covered in a blanket. “No murder basement with chains, or cryptids lurking in the woods?”
Chris snorted, smoke leaving through his nose as he smoked, “Only a freshly mutated middle aged man.”
She hummed a grin tugging at the corner of her lips, “Sounds dangerous, a senior citizen living all alone. Maybe I should investigate.”
“You’re fourty-two, not that much younger than me.”
“Fourty-two is not fifty.” she pointed out with a smirk.
“I’m fourty-eight.” he clarified, but just earned himself a sly look. Chris just shook his head and nodded towards the steaming cup that she left on the railing, “Just shut up and drink your cocoa, kid.”
Claire laughed at that, before sighing and doing as he asked. Chris observed her for a minute longer, as she kicked her feet lightly in boredom. Eyes closed, her hands cradling the warm mug.
Taking a page out of her book, he allowed himself to lean back against the chair, finally relaxing as the silence stretched between them like a blanket. He wished for this moment to never end.
He liked his new place, he really did but… whenever Claire came to visit, it felt as if his world shifted for a moment. The idea of inviting people into his space made him nauseous, angry in a way that honestly seemed utterly ridiculous. Unless it was Claire. She felt like she was meant to stay with him. Her own scent— strawberries and paper— instead of repulsing him, just comforted him. So much so that his sister teased him for sleeping like a dead man and snoring like a bear, whenever she came around.
Chris never wanted her to leave his den– home— it was a home dammit, not some animal’s hideout—, if he could help it. He wanted to keep her safe and sound, always close to him.
Rebecca mentioned that the… lycan part of him would desperately search for a pack. For companions. Wolves were not meant to stay lonely, no matter what the stereotypes said.
But Chris was no wolf. He wasn’t really a lycan either. He was just… Chris. Infected, but nonetheless, he was still Chris Redfield and he was fine being on his own. Not to mention, Claire was an adult.
It was hard remembering that sometimes, as whenever he looked at her he just saw his little sister with her scraped knees and messy hair.
“Chris! Look, look!” she’d call him, grin as wide as humanly possible as she showed off the ugly thing of the week. A snake, snail, lizard or simply whatever seemed gross enough to catch her eye.
The memory made him smile as he leaned his wrist against the wheel, staring at the empty shell of the house in front of him. Something tugged at his heart. It seemed so lifeless and dark from the outside. Lonely.
Chris ripped his eyes away from it and just started the engine, driving away. Pointedly ignoring the restlessness that bubbled beneath the surface. His instincts already started clawing at him, and that was just the beginning.
September 18, 2021. BSAA HQ, New Jersey.
Chris lowered his head as he exited the helicopter, waving off the pilot as he walked down the landing pad to where Jill was already waiting for him. It was already dark out, but both the pad and the building were lit up like a Christmas tree out of season.
“Hey.” he smiled in greeting, the wind from the helicopter howling in his ears but he managed to ignore it. Loud noise or high frequency sounds did not agree with his condition.
Jill looked good, smiling back at him and patting his elbow, “Hey yourself. Come on, let’s head inside.”
He nodded and followed the co-leader of his squad. Jill joined in very quickly after the formation of the Hound Wolf Squad, taking a leading possession at his side and a code name Echo.
Wilson, or Night Howl, as their communications expert came up with the nicknames, cursing Chris with Alpha and jokingly calling Jill, Echo since both leaders would often give the same orders while in the field. Despite all that they’ve been through, they were still intertwined as partners should be. Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine. One mind, two bodies.
“So did you find out anything?” he asked as they stepped into the elevator, the small space made him tense up, but he just rolled his shoulders and leaned against the wall. Grounding himself, while Jill picked their floor and looked at him.
“Not much. It’s not about your condition, of that I’m sure.” she reassured making him snort.
“Wasn’t worried about that.” he said drily, “They’re still over the moon to have a super soldier on their payroll.”
Jill hummed, the light catching her hair, causing him to notice the platinum roots that were showing. The sight made him frown, as Jill dyed her hair religiously. Not allowing a single blonde strand to show off.
“How are you?” he asked, voice softer as his nose twitched searching for any indication of how she felt. But whatever Wesker did to Jill, whatever mutation she went through, it blocked out Chris. Her personal scent was very dull, near impossible to pinpoint underneath her usual perfume.
“Peachy.” was all she said, her fingers drumming against her bicep. “I don’t like any of this, Chris. We got away with a slap on the wrist for Romania, only because their golden boy returned with teeth. But they’ve been allusive ever since, honeyed words and praise, then today a sudden summon. A mission out of the blue.”
Chris grunted, he didn’t like it either. Things have been real quiet for too long.
“So what is your assessment?”
Jill clenched her jaw, but responded all the same. “You’ve been backseating for the last eight months.” which was far from the truth, as their squad went out on a couple off the books investigations regarding BSAA’s hidden movements. “I have a feeling that they want a field test.”
Another Romania. Sending their B.O.W. and seeing how they do in a hostile situation.
Chris nodded, face grim as he also thought about it. The months since his exposure were filled with reports and other office work. He mostly oversaw his own team’s work, as Jill led them on official missions. They wanted him to settle back in, to heal as if that was even possible.
Or they just waited for an opportunity to test him.
“I see that we’re on the same page.” Jill said, raising an eyebrow at him.
“This was bound to happen, but we’ll handle whatever they throw at us.” he said just as the elevator stopped. Chris pushed himself back from the wall and put his hand on Jill’s shoulder, mustering what he hoped was a comforting smile, “As long as we’re in this together, right?”
Jill smiled back and nodded, “Yeah. No more splitting up.”
“Come on partner, let’s pay our Director a visit.” he said and together they walked out, heading for the lobby where their squad was already lounging about. They were laughing at something, casual and human. It made his throat oddly tight.
Elba noticed them first, ever their second in command, he kicked Perlman’s feet off the lobby’s coffee table. Some magazines came down along with them, but he didn’t seem to particularly care.
“Oi, what the fuck man—”
“Captain. Lieutenant.” Elba greeted and stood up with a respectful nod. His tone was very telling, as he was warning his team members of their leaders’ presence.
Chris kept his face straight, but he did feel amused as he watched grown men and woman fumbling to their feet, straightening out their uniforms at once. Jill did nothing to hide her smirk at their antics.
“Staying sharp, I see.” she commented, sending them a look that had Graham shuffle on his feet.
“Always, Lieutenant.” Perlman grinned, saluting. His team members looked like they wanted to get swallowed by the floor.
Jill snorted, while Chris glanced at her, addressing his squad.
“Alright. Elba, book a conference room for us.” he requested, earning a simple nod in return, “We’re heading in to meet with the Director, we will relay the details once we get them. But I’ve got a feeling that a mission is brewing.”
“It’ll be good to stretch our legs out.” Berkhoff said as a small smile pulled at her lips.
These last few months they stretched out their legs alright. Especially Berkhoff with her constant recon assignments.
“Yeah.” he simply agreed, offering a smaller and private smile to them all. “Now get a move on, I’d like to get this done before midnight.”
“Is it a full moon?” Jill whispered, loudly, to him.
The team cleared out at once, trying to hide their laughter with poorly timed coughs or even fake sneezes.
“Very funny.” Chris just glared at his partner, while she patted his back.
“You’re getting a big head, I need to knock you down from time to time.”
“In front of our squad?” he asked.
Jill glanced where they left and nodded, tone dropping slightly into a whisper, “Especially in front of them. They look at you differently now, Chris. They need a reminder that you’re still you.” she stopped briefly, looking back up at him as she added, “And you need it too.”
Chris froze slightly and watched Jill go up to the main desk to sign in. He stayed like that for a moment, letting her words brush over him, as he gazed past the glass door where his squad was still visible walking away.
Maybe he did need such a reminder.
With that in mind, he approached the desk and sighed in, swiping his badge card to gain access to the floor. On the list of today’s visitors, a singular name caught his attention.
— M. Winters. (9.27AM)
What was Mia doing here?
After his infection he’s been in confinement for over a month at Rebecca’s lab, while Jill handled Mia’s case. She and Rose were relocated to Boston, a cosy apartment with a view of the water. Chris helped pick it, hoping that at least… at least Ethan’s little girl could grow up somewhere nice. The schools were good from what he remembered, a daycare center just around the corner with great reviews. He couldn’t scout it out personally, but Jill said that it was a good place for them both.
After he was free, he only met with Mia once. She was bitter about… well everything, not even bringing Rose with her, as she just said that she wished that he pulled that trigger. Why was he allowed to get out of there alive and Ethan wasn’t?
Chris didn’t blame her, he agreed that he should’ve died that day. That was the plan from the moment he felt the lycan sink its teeth into his thigh.
- Get Ethan and Rose out.
- Put a bullet in your head.
“Chris?”
He looked to the side, where Jill was watching him with a frown.
“You good?”
Clearing his throat, he simply nodded, “Yeah. I’ll tell you later.”
She observed him for a second, before relenting. “Alright. Let’s get going, I want this to be over.”
“Yeah… me too.”
September 20, 2021. Somewhere deep in the Appalachian Mountains, West Virginia.
The engine rang in Chris’s ears even through the protective headset, making him mildly annoyed. He sometimes hated how sensitive his hearing has become.
[Okay people, comms check.] Night Howl called out through their earpiece.
[Canine in.]
[Tundra in.]
[I hear ya. Lobo in.]
[Umber Eyes in.]
[Echo in.] Jill said at his side, preparing her four slot rocket launcher with steady movements. It was a prototype that she insisted on trying out, probably reminiscing about her time in Raccoon City. It looked odd in her hands, so big and heavy, but she didn’t seem to mind one bit.
[Alpha in.] Chris stated, ignoring the slight tug at the corner of Jill’s lips. It seemed that the code name would never stop being amusing, especially now that Chris was some kind of werewolf.
[Great. Everything’s working.] Night Howl said through the intercom all the way from the cockpit. [I unplugged HQ, we’ve gone fully dark, sir.]
[Wonder how we’ll explain this comms malfunction.] Tundra replied, smirking as she scrolled through her tablet.
[The signal is already real shitty up here.] Night Howl replied, [It would get cut off the moment we stepped foot in that resort. I just sped things along.]
[A fact that HQ is probably counting on.] Canine added, shaking his head. [What fresh hell are they sending us into?]
They all turned towards Chris, with the exception of Night Howl who was in the cockpit. He sighed deeply, wishing for a cigarette and to simply be out of this flying box as his head started pounding from all the noise. He hated flying.
[I’m sorry to say, Alpha.] Lobo started, arms crossed behind his head and legs stretched out without care. [But that mission briefing was vague as fuck.]
Umber Eyes shot his teammate a look, but then reluctantly agreed. [Yeah. A rescue mission in the middle of nowhere, in some closed resort that is supposedly a cover for some laboratory.]
[Don’t forget the missing person reports.] Tundra added, [Seven groups of hikers went missing in the area.]
[It’s the Appalachian Mountains. Weird shit happens here all the time.] Lobo shrugged, before smirking. [Maybe a vampire got ‘em? Or some other cryptid.]
No one laughed.
Chris finally sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to ease the pain and his raging instincts that were hellbent on ripping through the aircraft and getting out. His… other side, it hated being trapped like this. It felt like something was trying to claw its way out through his chest, making him grimace in pain and swallow the saliva that suddenly gathered in his mouth.
He hated it.
Clearing his throat, he rubbed his chest briefly, trying to ease the tightness there. [It’s a mess, I know. But an entire squad has gone missing in there. They may need our help, so we’re going to do whatever we can to bring them home.]
[What if we get there and just find B.O.W.’s?] Umber Eyes asked with a sour look.
Jill just shook her head, [BSAA would not send us out to find their little dirty secret. They have no idea that we know about their Deadmeat Squads. Chris’s condition distracted them enough.]
He snorted, [Yeah. You’re welcome everyone.]
[For what it’s worth. It’s good to have you back with us, Alpha.] Canine said, making the others nod. [Officially, I mean.]
Chris swallowed, his teeth feeling too big for his mouth, the beds of his nails pulsing along with his elevated heartbeat, his vision shifting, the world around him losing colour around the edges. He pressed his feet firmly into the floor and tucked his back deeper into the wall behind him. Grounding himself.
[Good to be back.] he replied, ignoring the look that Jill was sending him, no doubt catching a glimpse of his brown eyes turning a sickly sulfur yellow. He just needed to get out of this fucking box.
Salvation arrived later than he had hoped, but he was glad all the same, barely controlling himself not to bolt the moment the ramp went down and the scent of wilderness surrounded him. It put him at ease, especially when he was out in the open, the vastness of the forest greeting him like an old friend.
“Alright. You know what to do.” he said to his squad, earning nods and salutes.
“Well then, move out.” Jill called out, sliding her weapon over her shoulder.
“Yes, Echo.”
“On it, Lt.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And so on, they responded, before walking off into the surrounding trees, leaving Night Howl on board and Chris with Jill. He glanced at her, and she returned it with a frown.
“Doing better?”
“Yeah, yeah… just, it’s still hard to get used to it… all.” he muttered, slowly walking forward from where Jill and him would enter from the front. Better to let whoever was in charge focus on the two of them, while their squad do their own thing.
“I heard that you dodged your recent check up, wanna talk about it?” Jill prompted, keeping up with his long strides with ease.
Chris’s skin prickled, a low growl vibrated through his chest, causing him to cough in an attempt to cover it up. “Nothing to report.”
“Right.” Jill replied, not sounding convinced in the slightest. “So after this, you don’t mind swinging by Becca’s.”
He did mind in fact, mind. Not because of Rebacca but because… he just couldn’t. The mare idea made something ugly rise in his chest, and it did not like being pricked and probed.
“Sure.” he lied, not looking her way.
“You could ask Claire to be—”
“No.” he growled, stopping and half-glaring at his partner. “She has her own life, I can handle a check up by myself.”
Jill glared back, until he backed up and muttered a small apology. “I’m on your side, Chris. We all are.”
“I know.” he whispered and moved on.
The forest stretched out mercilessly, nothing but fallen branches, moss and bushes to greet them. Judging by the silence, their team’s situation was just as uneventful.
“I wonder where they landed.” Jill said, glancing around but the darkness and slight fog didn’t exactly help out.
Chris’s vision was clear at least, his yellow eyes shining steadily as the world turned almost black and white, drained out of its colour. “Probably somewhere on the south side, the forest is too dense elsewhere.”
He stepped over a fallen tree and turned, hand stretching out to help Jill cross. But the moment he turned, he noticed that she was already at his side not even hiding her smirk. Chris huffed out a laugh and shook his head, continuing forward.
They walked in silence, until Jill spoke up again. “Doesn’t this… remind you?”
“Of what?” he asked, glancing at her briefly, seeing how she fumbled with her hood. Keeping it up. Her blue eyes looked up at his hulking form and her lips pressed into a thin line. “What, Jill?”
She licked her lips, ready to speak up when their intercoms buzzed to life.
[Umber Eyes to Alpha. Do you read me?]
He turned away from Jill, and focused back on their surroundings. [Alpha here.]
[I’ve reached my position at the nest. I’ve got eyes on the resort.]
Chris nodded, even through the man could not see it, [Good. What’s the status?]
[Well. Someone is already in there.]
He turned and locked eyes with Jill, who kept her hand pressed against her ear piece.
[BSAA?] he asked.
[Negative. I think that it’s just one person. If I were to guess, it’s a man but it was hard to tell. I only got one glance through a window.] Umber Eyes reported.
Chris cursed and rubbed his forehead, [Friend or foe?]
[Couldn’t say, Alpha. But he’s encountered some hostiles, I can see some flashes of light through the window. Seems to be shooting something to hell.]
“Could be anyone.” Jill whispered at his side, and he sighed deeply.
[Orders, Alpha?] Umber Eyes prompted.
[Unchanged. Stay at the nest, observe and play back up.] Chris commanded, nodding for Jill to follow him as he started leading them forward. [Tundra, come in. This is Alpha.]
[I hear you, Alpha.] she replied immediately.
[Any signs of vehicles or other ways of transport?]
[Negative, sir. But I will keep an eye out—]
She was cut off, as Lobo’s voice filtered through.
[I’ve got it. There’s a motorcycle ‘round back. She’s a beaut’.]
Chris stilled in one place, eyes growing slightly wider while his heart stuttered within his chest. Jill snorted and walked on, glancing back with a knowing look.
“Well. We both know of one bike loving asshole, who would be crazy enough to take a lonely ride up the Appalachian Mountains at night.” she said and raised her hand up to her ear piece. [Echo in. Stand by, there’s probably a DSO agent inside.]
[DSO?] Tundra asked.
[What the fuck are they doing here?] Lobo added.
[I don’t know, but I know that I don’t like it.] Canine joined in.
Chris snapped out of it and immediately said, [He’s on our side. Should you come in contact with him, stick to the Lion Protocol.]
Jill snorted and shook her head, walking ahead slightly.
[Wait, that’s Lion?] Canine cut in, voice not even covering his surprise.
[Damn. Didn’t think we’d get to meet the agent that made Alpha create a special protocol.] Lobo replied with a low whistle.
[Right? Seems like a big de—] Canine tried to say, but was cut off.
[Understood, Alpha. I will keep an eye out for Lion.] Umber Eyes just responded, cutting the chatter short.
Chris almost smiled, [Good, keep me updated. The rest of you know what to do. Alpha out.]
Jill was waiting, a grin stretched so far that it made her cheeks puff up, squishing her eyes. Chris grunted and moved past her.
“He’ll probably cause trouble for us.”
“I didn’t say anything.” she whispered, tone far too teasing for his taste.
“But I did. What the hell does DSO want from this place?” Chris mussed, not even noticing how he seemed to be speeding up.
“Could be just, Leon being… Leon. You’re similar in this, insubordination comes easy to the both of you.” she pointed out, hurrying to matching long strides, the rocket launcher knocking into her back uncomfortably. “Chris, slow down. He’s not going anywhere.”
“I know.” he agreed, not slowing in the slightest as from the distance he could see the resort looming over them. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about.” he ended in a whisper.
He heard his partner huff but she didn’t say anything else, and for her sake, Chris did slow down slightly.
The resort greeted them with eerie silence. It was as if the forest itself stopped breathing the moment they stepped through the treeline and up to the rusty gate. Chris’s eyes jumped from window to window, hoping to catch a glimpse of anyone inside.
Preferably Leon.
“Anything?” Jill whispered, relying on his enhanced sight.
“No. Can’t smell much either.” he whispered back and just walked closer to the gate, it was closed with a surprisingly new chain. Chris hooked his fingers underneath it, glancing back at Jill. “Seems pretty new.”
She came closer and hummed, “Someone replaced it. Probably after the other team went through.”
Chris nodded and reached out with his other hand, grabbing the chain, he snapped it in two with unnatural ease. The chain cluttered to the floor and he sighed, “No more goosechases for a rogue pair of bolt cutters.”
Pushing the gate open with an annoying squeak of old metal, he let Jill cross through and slung his assault rifle to the front, keeping it steadily in his hands. Jill, on the other hand, pulled out her hand gun.
They crossed the courtyard without issues, overgrown vines, untrimmed bushes and rubble were the only things obscuring their path inside. It was easy.
Too easy.
At the door, Chris raised his hand and stopped Jill, signalling for her to hold formation as he took a deep breath and softly propped the wide doors open. The oak groaned weakly from age, but that was important right now as Chris held his rifle up and scanned the dusty lobby, Jill sticking to his back, watching his back.
Everything seemed abandoned at first glance, but Chris’s nose and eyes knew otherwise.
There were footprints disturbing the dust, the scent of rot and blood hovering in the air. Along with… something smoky. Like burning mint and leather? With a smidge of nauseating vodka, that no doubt belonged to Leon if Chris had to guess.
He used to prefer whiskey.
[This is Alpha. Echo and I are in. Keep your eyes wide open, presence of bioweapons confirmed. Same with Lion.] he muttered into his earpiece, hearing Jill flex her hand around her handgun.
[This is Tundra. We just entered from the back, no contact yet but we’ll be careful.]
[Good.] he replied, while Jill added on her end.
[Stick together, no matter what. This stinks.]
Lobo’s laughter cut through, as he responded. [We got it, Lt. You better keep Cap in one piece.]
Chris shook his head and shared a look with Jill, who just nodded and replied. [Will do. Now remember to check in, in fifteen.]
Muttered agreements sounded through the channel, before silence claimed them once again. Chris rolled his shoulders and took another look around, coming to kneel by the footprints.
“Let me guess. Leon?” Jill asked, leaning over his giant shoulder to take a peek.
He hummed, touching the print and swiping his fingers through the dirt and dust. “They’re barely visible. He’s always been light on his feet, but not like this. If I were to guess, he’s been in here for a while. The dust just settled back down.”
“Couple of hours then?” she prompted, looking around again, while Chris remained crouched down.
“Probably.” he muttered and touched the print again, his nose twitching as there was something… wrong. But what? The smells weren’t unusual or new, just… the vodka, he could constantly smell it. He felt it settle in the back of his throat, as if it was trying to choke him.
“We should move.” he suddenly decided, clearing his throat and standing up. Jill didn’t protest as he fixed his grip on the rifle and led them up the grand staircase. Straying from the windows and moonlight, Jill switched on her flashlight while Chris just continued on. The world was still colourless, but at least, it was bright.
The hallways were vast and surprisingly empty. Nothing but dust and moonlight to keep them company, but still, the scent of rot hung in the air. It put Chris on edge. And fair enough, just as they rounded the corner a scene that could only be described as pure carnage greeted them.
“Fuck me…” Jill whispered at his side and Chris could agree more.
The hallway was no longer dusty, instead it was painted in blood and viscera. Guts, limbs and other things that no person should see, were scattered like trash throughout the entire length of the hallway.
It was hard to tell, even for Chris if it were humans or bioweapons. Maybe a bit of both?
“Well… this wasn’t Leon.” Jill commented at last.
The bodies were ripped to shreds, be it by teeth or claws, they were mauled.
And although the scent of gunpowder lingered in the air still, Chris had to agree.
“No. It wasn’t.”