Dont Fear the Reaper
Chapter 1: Here We Go Again
July 24 1998, Raccoon Forest
Alpha teams chopper flew over the forest, the sun setting quickly. Not only had they lost contact with Bravo team, but there had been reports of a gigantic explosion on a mountain nearby. There was also the fact that they had managed to jack Bravo teams personal radio line, and the last thing they managed to receive was a garbled message from Kate, presumably calling Enrico, sounding obviously agitated and definitely asking for backup. Wesker had delayed a bit, but they had eventually set out. Wesker, Jill and Chris had their Samruai Edge handguns. Barry was packing a .44 Colt Anaconda with a 10-inch barrel for no adequately-explained reason. Chris also had a combat knife clipped in his holster, and Joseph Frost was carrying a Mossberg shotgun.
I wonder what happened to Bravo team? Chris wondered.
They were probably sidetracked by a completely unrelated third party that they had no jurisdiction over in the first place, Wesker remarked. His time in Birkins basement had clued him into the situation, but he remained silent on that matter. Jill suddenly felt her pockets.
Hey, Barry, where the hell are my lockpicks? she wondered. Barry looked sheepish.
Sorry. Borrowed them to pick some taco out of my teeth forgot I had them in my pocket, Barry handed them back. Jill glared at him. He shrugged, and she flinched.
Careful gesturing with that cannon, she snapped, indicating his massive revolver. This time he glared at her and shoved it into his shoulder holster. Jill glanced out.
Look, Chris! Jill indicated the crashed helicopter in the woods. Brad swiveled the choppers searchlight to centre on the crash site. Landing nearby, the team stepped out to investigate. Unknown to them, the previous night Kevin had decided to while away the time hacking down trees with the axe stowed under the seat. After this exertion had tired him out, he had gone to sleep in the seat while zombie Dobermans jumped out of nowhere, clawed his eyes out and wrecked his choppers shit. Jill suddenly inclined her head.
What is it? Chris asked.
I think Kate just sent me a psychic message. It says; Get the frick out of there and call the FBI, Jill replied.
Were sticking to the mission. Thats an order, Wesker cut in. Meanwhile, Joseph was being a mute loner bastard and dicking around behind their backs. The flashlight under the barrel of his Mossberg cast weird shadows on the vegetation. He heard a growl behind him. Spinning, he was caught full in the face by a leaping zombie Doberman. He let out a blood-curdling scream. The other three officers turned to see him getting devoured by a pack of dogs. Jill, who was closest, raised her gun. She didnt actually fire it or anything. Just aimed it. Then when one of them jumped at her, Chris popped it in the head. He then forgot about the other fourteen bullets in his gun, grabbed Jill and ran off. Chris then tripped over his own feet and another dog pulled the leap attack before being popped by Wesker. The four officers oddly, Barry had not lent his handcannon to the party decided not to stick around with the zombie dogs and booked it towards a mansion just visible in the distance.
BRAD! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING!? Chris yelled up at the helicopter above them flying away believing that his voice could carry about three hundred metres above him and be audible over a choppers rotors. Brad, meanwhile, had spotted the zombie dogs and decided to gently caress that noise and leave. The four burst through the front door.
Enter the survival horror
I mean, enter the world of survival horror
Chris lit a cigarette with his lighter and brought it to his mouth. Suddenly a Capcom executive leaped out of nowhere, ripped it out of his hands, stomped on it and slapped him. Chris looked hurt, but rolled with it.
Jill dramatically pulled back the slide of her gun, displaying her perfect manicure which all police officers have. Also, her boobs mysteriously shrank in size, only to return to normal upon entering the mansion.
Barry loaded his Anaconda with .44 rounds. He briefly pondered if it was legal for a police officer to be packing not only a .44 revolver a sidearm proven to be too powerful for police use but also a wickedly out-of-control beard. He dramatically cocked his gun which had not only changed colour, but also barrel length and model type.
Rebecca Chambers, mysteriously looking slightly Indian, tied her non-existent bandanna and staring at the camera. One would wonder where she got it more to the point, where her heavy weaponry from the Marcus Facility had gone.
Wesker put on his sunglasses and ran his fingers through his slicked-back blond hair which had mysteriously gone from light blond to toxic yellow for a minute or so.
I dont care what Redfield says, he remarked. My hair is fucking fantastic. Just ask Birkin, he held a contest. I was voted the best in the whole of America.
Ix-ney on the Irkin-Bey! Birkin hissed.
Blood Type: AB+
Height: 183 cm
Weight: 90 kg
Matt scratched his head. What the hell am I doing here? Why did a scary voice just yell my name? Why do I get the feeling that my blood type is going to be a factor later on? I like my blood when its in me!
Blood Type: O-
Weight: 65 kg
Im in the same boat as Matt. Kate said, Why the hell is a creepy voice yelling out our biological details? How come my blood type is O-?
She lifted her shirt and Kevlar vest a fraction, And why is my scar tingling?
There was a huge fiery explosion. Out of the fireball the words RESIDENT EVIL could be seen. Chris then tripped into a wormhole and came out at the Philadelphia turnpike, and began choking on the exhaust fumes. Ignoring their partners predicament, Jill, Wesker and Barry entered the survival horror.