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July 26, 2009
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(Contains: strong language)
Welcome to Umbrella

Chapter 11: Helter Skelter

Freshly-looted equipment in tow, the group made their way into the engine room. Billy and Rebecca promptly proceeded to mash random buttons in an attempt to stop the train. Sadly this tact was ineffective.

“The train will either derail or crash!” Billy exclaimed.

“It’s raining heavily and is dark out!” Rebecca agreed.

“This situation fills me with rage,” Kate added.

“Me too,” Matt interjected. Spotting a file, he snatched it up and read it – if every other piece of light reading had been relevant, why not this? His stomach dropped as he finished it.

“What is it?” Kate asked.

“Oh, it’s just the simple matter of crossing the entire fricking train to activate the brakes,” Matt replied. Kate rubbed the spot on her forehead which was red and stinging from her facepalming. So, two controls had to be activated at opposite ends and the same time. Kate volunteered to take Matt to the back of the train. Neither of the others challenged her.

Kate and Matt legged it down the train. Coming into a dark train car, they came across a zombified Edward Dewey feasting on a corpse. The zombie turned towards them, moaning. Kate froze up. The Edward zombie was promptly pwned by a Hookshot to the forehead. It was only then that Matt discovered just how hard it is to remove a pronged hook from a corpse, and came out of the experience feeling unclean. The two of them came out on the rain-slick platform.

“Well, can you activate it?” Kate asked, glancing over her shoulder as she covered the door with her gun. Matt bent over the console and inspected it.

“Uh-oh, first-year Maths alert. I’ve got to press ten keys to add up to 67 to activate this half of the brakes,” Matt replied. Another, oh-so-familiar beat of silence.

“So with an impending disaster down the track, you have to book down the whole train and solve a maths problem?” Kate exclaimed. While she spoke, Matt solved the brainbender.

“This is Kate,” Kate said into her radio, “I activated this half of the brakes. Over.”

“Honey, this is the Billster. You are currently outside in a thunderstorm on a speeding train – I did not hear a word you just said. Over.”

Kate reentered the train and repeated the message. Billy acknowledged and cut off the transmission. Matt raced back into the train as well, glad that the rain had removed most of the leech slime from his pilfered Kevlar vest.

Meanwhile, back at the front of the train, Billy and Rebecca found themselves faced with an even harder puzzler. They had to do the same problem, but with half the panel busted! Fortunately, Rebecca busted out a pen and paper, and the problem was easily solved. Billy yanked the lever to activate the actual fricking brakes. However, since the engineer who designed the Ecliptic Express was drunk when he drew the plans and it was Opposite Day, the brakes actually sped the train up while making wicked sparks on the rails.

At an intersection of tracks, one sensitive to the supernatural world could have faintly seen the spirits of the Delta Team Redshirts haul back the lever and divert the train towards Marcus’ training facility. Then the train went up on one side, just because it was totally metal. However, as it shot down a tunnel it promptly reached the end of its tracks.

With a deafening rumbling and scraping the train left its tracks and skidded across the large underground room. The fuel in the engine car promptly exploded, scattering flames everywhere. Finally the train ground to a halt, lying on its side. Inside the rear car, a figure stirred.

Kate hacked and coughed, feeling herself for injuries. Apart from some bruising and some mild whiplash, she felt ok. She stood as tall as the buckled metal of the compartment would allow and called to Matt. There was a groan from nearby and Matt didn’t really get up so much as unfold from the soot-stained ball he had curled into. Kate offered a hand.

"You ok?" Kate asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing, I think my fat sort of absorbed the shock,” Matt tried to smile, then winced as what felt like a fractured arm sent pain shooting through him. He stumbled and Kate caught him, taking his weight with visible difficulty. The two of them picked their way down the wrecked train to the engine car and dropped out one of the shattered windows. The two of them swept the surrounding wreckage.

“Did either of them survive?” Matt wondered.

“We were at the back. They were at the front. They were probably liquefied.” Kate replied.

“Look!” Matt pointed, then winced. They found Billy sprawled facefirst on the concrete. Kate felt a pang of sympathy for the convict – he would have been ejected from the train at about 80 miles per hour and hit the concrete so fast he probably didn’t have any skin left. Then Billy moved, and Kate felt her disbelief rear up. Billy stood up, completely none the worse for wear. He immediately began to call out for Rebecca.

“I’m here,” she replied shakily, staggering out from behind some wreckage. Normally Kate or Matt would have exclaimed loudly about how unlikely it would be for them to survive, but they were just glad that they did.

“Are you alright?” Billy asked, “Hey, we managed to stop the train.”

“Yeah, we managed,” Rebecca agreed.

“Uh, guys?” Matt added, “I think the crash actually knocked out all my blood. And I think I now have a kidney where one of my lungs should be. Don’t ask where the lung is.”

“Yep, we managed the shit out of that train,” Kate agreed.

“We have to find a way out,” Billy continued.

“I think I broke my arm too,” Matt rambled on, “Like, all the bones. I also think I voided my bowels. There may be parts of my small intestine in it too.”

Rebecca gave him a medical checkup, which oddly consisted of her grasping Matt’s right forearm and inspecting it from a few different angles. Matt cast a sideway glance at Kate. She shrugged. Rebecca eventually diagnosed it as part shock, part hypochondria and a bruised ulna. In short; he was hopped up after the crash and imagining that he had it worse than a bad bruise on his forearm.

Matt decided to show off his knowledge of the facility and lead the group through ankle-deep human waste. Kate grimaced in distaste but Billy and Rebecca seemed to just stoically take it. Climbing out of the hole in the floor, Matt briefly wondered if Bob was still floating around. While Billy found something fascinating about the Umbrella insignia on the floor Rebecca decided to appreciate the fine art of painting.

“Look! It’s Dr. James Marcus! The leeches from the train looked like him!” Rebecca called. The rest of the group jogged up the stairs to stare at the painting. Meanwhile, a totally unobtrusive security camera recorded bad-quality footage of their collective asses. Unsurprisingly, Willy B. Birkin and Alfie Wesker were the ones staring at this footage.

“Ok, who are those people in this abandoned facility?” Birkin wondered.

“The women are rookie S.T.A.R.S members,” Wesker responded.

“That one looks like a fourteen-year-old boy. Why did you hire her?”

“Her resume said she knew how to mix herbs.”

“Mix herbs?” Birkin spluttered, “My twelve-year-old daughter can mix those things! Policemen can, college students can, most of S.T.A.R.S can, our Death Squad can, Africans can… hell, the President’s daughter probably can.”

Meanwhile in the mansion, an automated PA started up, despite how damn old the facility was.

“This is Dr. Marcus. Please be silent while we reflect on our company motto. *ahem* No matter what experiments I conduct, I promise never to question the reason, ethical implications or logic of it. I just stick the needle in and hope for something awesome. Wait – what do you mean there was a change in policy. Get me Spencer! What’s that? Oh, he’s in his other mansion again? Goddamnit! Leeches wouldn’t run away from their responsibilities like that. Yesss… leeches would be honest and faithful… What? Oh, yes, the microphone’s still on, isn’t it? I’d better spew some fascist bullshit, eh?

“*ahem* Obedience breeds discipline – so do whatever the fuck I say and we don’t need to call the Death Squad. Discipline breeds unity – so we all turn up for the company basketball game Researchers vs Eliminators. Be careful, those monkeys are crazy! Oh, err… Unity breeds power – so… shit, I don’t know anymore, I can’t get my leeches out of my mind. Oh wait, and power is life. So… if you all do what I say, you all get to keep your lives. Sound fair? If not, please be fruitful and multiply, but not in so many words, because I have better leeches to do, I mean things to leech, than sit around talking on this fricking microphone. Mad props to the hood, yo. *crackle*”

Meanwhile, in Birkin’s mum’s basement, Willie and Alfie leaned forward in their chairs, scattering empty Cheeto packets as the robed fruitcake from atop the hill appeared on their monitor. He then proceeded to giggle manically.

“Who are you?” Wesker asked, sort of assuming that said fruitcake had a speaker as well as a microphone and a camera.

“I’m a fricking Level 60 White Mage bitches!” he replied, “I’m a magic man. You have no idea how hard it is to run about 25 miles in the rain barefoot, get to this room, set up this camera, mic and speaker and still have time for my precious leeches. Oh, and I sort of hurled a vial of T-virus in the window of the Spencer mansion – and the train. But forget that, it isn’t important right now.”

“What?” Birkin contributed poorly to the conversation.

“Revenge… on UMBRELLA!” the man exclaimed, “I know it seems small-time to attack random, abandoned outposts of a vast multinational corporation, but screw you, I cast Holy, which crits for 9999 damage!

He then pressed play on his stereo and played his ‘Spooky Opera Music’ mixtape, including passages from his best work. The leeches swarming at his feet formed into the old James Marcus and started doing some bitchin’ breakdancing.

“Dr. Marcus?” Birkin exclaimed, leaning towards the screen, “I thought him saying he had leeches inside him was just another euphemism!”

“Hehehehe. Ten years ago Dr. Marcus was murdered by Umbrella. You helped them, didn’t you?” the man bluffed fantastically, as he really didn’t have any idea who he was talking to. Ending with more high-pitched giggling, the man shut off the camera.

“Wesker, I hope neither of us ever mentioned this again to anyone ever.” Birkin stated.

“Agreed.”
Oh GOD, Marcus is fruity. Fortunately, not quite at electric boobies level, but I wouldn't put it past him to stick lumps of leeches to his pecs and call them boobs.

:noes: Why can't Resident Evil games be shorter?!
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:icongeoutlit:
Geoutlit Featured By Owner Mar 18, 2013
Ok just had to ask. Have you ever read The Dark Id's lets play of RE0 because both that and this had me cracking up.
Reply
:iconsupergilfer:
SuperGilfer Featured By Owner May 26, 2011
Love the references to The Dark Id's LP.
...
...oh, and the story itself, it's pretty sweet, too.^^;
Reply
:iconpaladin12345678:
Paladin12345678 Featured By Owner May 27, 2011
Heh, thanks. If you've got to crib jokes, take them from the best :p
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:iconxuncu:
xuncu Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2011  Student General Artist
Ok, that was feckin' hilarious.
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:iconpaladin12345678:
Paladin12345678 Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2011
Why thank you :D
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:iconstummervogel:
StummerVogel Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2009
You, sir, are a genius. This masterpiece of literature made me laugh HARD.
I followed a link to this and when I noticed that it was chapter ELEVEN (holy crap) and that there's many more to read it made my day more than anything else ever.
Excuse me now, I have to read the earlier chapters :XD:
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:iconpaladin12345678:
Paladin12345678 Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2009
... you followed it from TVTropes, didn't you? Yep, that was me. I promoted my own fic. Ego much? :p I was considering writing a TVTropes page for this fic just because of how huge it is and how many tropes I'm lampshading/parodying. Ah well.

There's fourteen chapters for RE0 and four chapters so far for REmake.
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:iconstummervogel:
StummerVogel Featured By Owner Aug 17, 2009
Right. I was wondering if the link had been posted by the writer himself ;)
Why not? I myself can't help but have random Trope Names flash through my head while reading it. "Lampshade hanging... Only sane man... Too dumb to live..." etc. If a fanfic uses a lot of Tropes (and in a good way, too) I think it should totally have its own page on TV Tropes. There are enough other fanworks that get mentioned and quoted and this would be one of the better stories.
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:iconpaladin12345678:
Paladin12345678 Featured By Owner Aug 17, 2009
Heh, I guess I should. I mean, I turned Wesker into a Badass Normal, right?
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:iconstummervogel:
StummerVogel Featured By Owner Aug 18, 2009
Oh yes, not affected by the virus yet and still badass! XD And heterosexual lifepartners with Birkin (I loved that part :XD:)
Go for it!
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