Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

LOCATION:  ┃ ███████ █████ .
DATE:  ┃September 2nd, ████ .
TIME:  ┃12:02:09 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 A violent storm wreaked havoc through a small town in early September; strong winds howled loudly as they battered and beat against whatever they touched. Trees creaked and groaned against the force of the winds, and the rain pounded harshly against the roof of a suburban home — all the while its inhabitants slept soundly. All except for one. A young woman tossed and turned uncomfortably in her bed, whimpering as her head whipped from side to side. Her breath quickened with each passing moment, and her face was covered with tears that leaked from her tightly shut eyes. Her fingers curled around the edge of her blankets firmly, digging her nails into the fabric. She was having a nightmare; an extremely vivid one.

 In her nightmare, she was sitting in a hospital bed — dressed in a hospital gown and covered in bloody gauze wrappings. A door suddenly appeared to her right, and she felt the instinctive desire to run through it. She threw the covers off of her body, jumped out of the bed, ran towards the door, and pressed against the push bar to exit to the other side. 

 On the other side of the door was a white room that looked like an empty cell, decorated with a metal framed bed and table set. On the opposite wall was a black void, and several pairs of eyes stared back at her. When she looked down her gauze wrappings were gone and she was wearing a different kind of hospital gown; a white one with emblazoned logos on the sleeves. Blood began to cover the floor and her eyes widened at the sight. The dark liquid that pooled at her feet started to flood towards her, and she turned to rush back the way she came — only to find that the door was gone and a dark abyss was below instead. She gasped upon realizing she had run too far and helplessly waved her arms to find her balance, but she was unable to stop herself from falling. 

 A scream escaped her lips as she fell and expected to meet her end; what she met, however, was a body of water. Her clothes dissolved in the water once she plunged into it and she began swimming upwards in hopes of reaching the surface — but something started to pull her down. The harder she tried to swim, the further she was pulled to the bottom. She was pulled deeper and deeper into the depths until she fell down a drain and onto what looked like a laboratory’s floor. She coughed and gasped for air as she stood up. Over the sound of her coughing she could hear someone calling her name in the distance.

 “ Erica! ”

 Erica faced the direction of the voice once it hit her ears; it was a woman’s voice. She had heard this voice before and knew who it belonged to, but she wasn’t given enough time to react before the blaring horn of a train hollered into her ear drums. A bright light flashed in her eyes as the ear-splitting blast of the horn came closer, and she only had enough time to raise her arms to brace for impact. She assumed she would be completely obliterated against the face of a train, but instead a sharp pain surged through her abdomen. Tears poured down the side of her face and when she looked down to her stomach she noticed she had on new clothes: some combat boots, some shorts, and a t-shirt — one that was quickly ruined when it became drenched in blood. A large amount of blood... She let out a soft cry of agony as she lifted it up to reveal a large, gaping wound in the middle of her abdomen. She grit her teeth in pain before the blood quickly seeped back into her body, and the pain and bloodstains were instantly gone. It was as if nothing happened at all.

 “Erica! Where are you?! ”

 Teary eyed, she started to search for the source of the voice but her attention was brought down to her hands before she had the chance; they started to change colors — turning her cool, pale skin into a veiny purple and bluish hue before it was marbled by a deep red. It didn’t stop at her hands though; the transformation continued to travel up her arms and legs. Her heart started to race in fear and confusion. Then her focus shifted as a horrific creature stepped forward. At first glance it was nothing more than a petrifying monster, but as she stared at it wide-eyed she got a good look at its appearance. It looked humanoid and its hair was curly; colored a brown with a hint of green. Its skin was deep red with a veiny complexion. It had immensely long nails — sharp enough to slash someone with — and a long, whipping tail with a sharpened bone at the tip. Its eyes were devoid of any irises or pupils, making it demonic in its appearance. The sinister looking creature stepped forward and opened its mouth to speak. 

 “We have unfinished business, Erica…”

 The monstrous entity’s voice sounded familiar to her just like the other voice, but she couldn’t remember where this being’s voice was from. She didn’t focus on that for long, instead choosing to ask who the monster was. “Who are you?” She asked. The terrifying individual simply gave her a toothy grin; its teeth were those of a vicious animal — big enough to pierce through flesh with ease. “You know who I am,” It said, “You just do not remember.” It slowly paced around her and extended a nail to stroke through her hair. A shudder ran through her spine at the sensation of the nail brushing against her scalp. “I am the reason this — ” It lifted up some of her hair, gesturing to her pale blonde strands. “ — is happening. I needed your attention, and now I have it.”

 Erica stood frozen, pondering what it meant by ‘you know who I am’ and ‘you just do not remember.’ The anxiety of not remembering who this was made her repeat her question, this time more firm. “ Who are you , and what do you want?”

 “I am what’s inside you, Erica…”

 Instantly, she felt the surface of her skin boil and her heart pound; the pumping of her blood stabbed her organs, inciting a further debilitating pain. It was as if she could feel a thousand needles piercing into her flesh. She grit her teeth as the desire to pull apart her ribcage cradled her mind, eager to satiate the pain in her chest. She gasped for breath as her lungs were gripped by an unimaginable force that snatched the air right out of her. She clenched her fists and her stomach twisted, lurching back and forth. A pulsing sting pierced the soft tissue of her brain as a raging fire burned in her chest. She screamed at the top of her lungs in her nightmare as she thrashed around violently in her bed. 

 The pain was unbearable, but she remembered this agonizing pain; she remembered who this haunting figure standing before her was. She remembered, dammit, but she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to!

  “...and I want you to return to Raccoon City.” The monster spoke.

 Erica immediately recalled the name of that godforsaken city; she recalled the screams of helpless victims begging for mercy, the shrill shrieks of grotesque monstrosities as they murdered the innocent, and the many faces she came to know and love — but it wasn’t real. None of it was; it was all in her head. It was just some hyperfixation that got out of hand, that was all .

 Suddenly, roars and howls of ghastly creatures invaded her ears, protesting her thoughts. CoMe BaCk, ErIcA! COME BACK TO US! CoMe BaCk!

 “Get out of my head!” She yelled.

 Her eardrums stung at the cries of the beasts, and she covered her ears in an attempt to block out the snarls and growls. Her attempt was proven useless when she heard the voice of the red, veiny skinned creature whisper in her ear, invading her mind and thoughts. “Come back to Raccoon City. It needs you .”

 “ NOOO!!! ”

 Erica shot up in her bed with a scream, only to scream again in surprise when a surge of thunder shook the house following her sudden start. She panted, frantically touching her face and body — it was just a nightmare . ‘Yeah…’ She told herself, ‘Just a nightmare…’

 Although she was relieved for everything to have been a nightmare, as her fingers touched her clothes she realized she was soaked in sweat. Her hands ran through her hair and she noticed her hair was soaked as well. Tears coated her face down to her chin. A flash of lightning peeked from behind her curtains and another thunderous crack roared in the distance, causing her to tense up again. She swallowed a lump in her throat before she pulled her knees up to her chest and pathetically sobbed into them.

 Why? Why can’t she escape Raccoon City? Why can’t she escape that fucking city? Why can’t she escape? Why, why, why?

 A sniffle.

 … Why?

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s House.
DATE: ┃March 24th, ████.
TIME: ┃11:14:38 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Seven months ago on August 20th, at 7:34 PM, Erica M. Slater was transported from the bathroom of her family home to the outskirts of Raccoon City, a fictional Midwestern town originating from a video game franchise known as Resident Evil. The survival horror game primarily takes place in and around Raccoon City — the testing grounds of a pharmaceutical company known as the Umbrella Corporation. Several areas of the city house bioengineering laboratories for Umbrella, allowing them to develop viruses intended for biological warfare under the guise of developing vaccines for the public. These viruses, or “mutagens,” could transform humans into zombies or monsters, as well as mutate animals and plantlife. Ultimately, the story of Resident Evil is that one of these viruses leaks and contaminates the area around it. This leads to a chain of events occurring, including the outbreak and destruction of Raccoon City. 

 Ironically, Erica was a huge fan of this franchise; she read every comic book and novel available to her, watched every movie and show based off of the franchise, and she read every piece of lore or story she could get her hands on. Somehow she miraculously became the very epicenter of what she enjoyed and, as stupid and ridiculous as it sounds, it actually happened. She was really inside a video game, but she refuses to acknowledge that any of it happened. Well…at first she did. 

 When Erica arrived back in the real world, she wanted to move on with her life and pretend that Raccoon City never happened in the first place. She wanted to put everything behind her and start fresh, but it was easier said than done. She carried a dark secret back with her, and this secret forced her to realize that living a normal life wasn’t in the cards for her anymore. 

 During Erica’s time in Raccoon City, she was pursued and kidnapped by the very pharmaceutical company that infected the city. Umbrella saw her as a viable test subject for their experiments, and while in their custody, she was experimented on with different kinds of viruses — each and every one of them more agonizing than the last. Along with the unbearable pain, these experiments led to her becoming something… different ; in turn, she developed new and strange abilities: superhuman strength, super speed, sensitive hearing and smelling, telepathy, regenerative healing, and the ability to shapeshift into a monstrosity known as a Tyrant, a humanoid bio-weapon made with the intent to be used as super soldiers and cause mass destruction to the human population. 

 These abilities came with an unfortunate price. Erica’s body mutated, and in order for her to survive it formed an insatiable hunger for human flesh — a hunger that leaves her facing dire consequences if she doesn’t tend to it. These consequences include suffering extreme bodily pains, weight loss, high fevers, fatigue, nausea, chills, and more importantly — her hunger starts to take control of her instead. Meaning, if she doesn’t satiate her hunger she could lose control of herself and… potentially hurt someone . 

 Luckily, she has studied her symptoms and her eating habits, and she was successful in locating some alternatives to manage her pains and persistent hunger. She tried to use different pain medicines, but they all stopped working after a while; Tylenol, Ibuprofen, and even Aleve were of no use to her after a month or two. Red meat, pork, and pig’s blood (aka blood jelly) have helped to subdue her intense cravings, but she secretly fears they will only keep her satisfied for so long. 

 Erica has worked hard to prevent her family from seeing her diet or witnessing her freakish abilities, and as far as she knows they haven’t suspected a single thing. Her dad still gives her the biggest hugs with the biggest smiles, her stepmom still asks her how her day was with every ounce of happiness in her voice, and her brothers still poke and joke with her with laughs in their mouths. Their love and ignorance to her situation has made her feel like it was easier to pretend like nothing ever happened, but one can only pretend for so long. 

 Hiding one of the most horrific parts of her life was relatively easy until Erica’s dirty blonde hair slowly started to turn a pale, white blonde shortly after she arrived back home. She remembers waking up and seeing a white strand of hair, and she believed it to be her imagination until she noticed more and more start to appear as time went on. Her family noticed and found the change odd, but they didn’t pay much mind to it; they simply assumed it was just some hair fad she was trying — but they didn’t even know half of the truth. Over time, Erica deduced that for every nightmare she had about Raccoon City, she would wake up to a new addition of white hair — until she had a whole head full of it. The strange reaction was bizarre, and many, many nights she laid in bed wondering what was happening to her; that was until she found out the reason why it was changing color.

 During the last seven months, Erica has had a few nightmares in which she repeats her experiences in Raccoon City over and over on a loop until she’s approached by a red skinned monster. This monster scares the absolute shit out of her everytime she sees it, but what it tells her each time it comes to her is even more disturbing. It tells her that it’s the reason for her white hair and that it has been changing the color of her hair to get her attention. It always informs her of who, and more specifically, what it is. It says she needs to return to Raccoon City to tend to unfinished business. ‘The city needs you.’ It repeats, and the sound of the creature’s voice has embedded itself into her mind ever since she first encountered it, and the more she would think about its voice — the more she would remember its origins.

 During Erica’s experimentation, her body began to reject the virus and she died, only to be revived a short while later. Although she had been revived, she fell into an unexplainable stasis; a stasis that lasted for over half a year. While her body was in a dormant state, her brain was not and it continued to remain active. She was still alive, and her consciousness was residing somewhere in the back of her mind, fighting to survive. However, her consciousness was not alone. Something resided in the recesses of her mind with her, and the sound of its voice was the same as the red skinned creature from her nightmare. She concluded that they were one and the same, and after putting two and two together she was able to identify the red skinned creature as Sol, an embodiment of the viruses that were injected into her body. Sol manifested itself inside of her consciousness once back in Raccoon City, and it’s doing it again — this time to tell her she has to return to Raccoon City. But… why ? 

 What ‘unfinished business’ does Erica have? What ‘unfinished business’ does she have back in Raccoon City that she didn’t finish when she left? Why did Sol claim Raccoon City needs her? She left that damned place and she left it for good ; she has no unfinished business, Raccoon City does not need her, and it was better for everyone involved that she went back home to the real world. She was never even supposed to be there in the first place. She didn’t belong there.

 No matter what Erica does, says, or tells herself, she can’t deny any of the events that have happened to her. They were real, and they happened — she knows that now. Previously she denied her experiences in favor of moving on and healing, but instead of healing herself she seemed to be making herself suffer. She thought she had managed to get some kind of grip around her life and get a sense of control, but there was always a lingering question in the back of her mind: is this how she really wants to live ? With that question came more: Does she want to live her life in fear, constantly worrying when she’ll slip up and eat somebody? Does she want to live her life speculating when she’ll eat someone she cares about? Does she want to live her life constantly feeling like a freak ? 

 After the questions pestered her long enough, it led to her pulling out a big, white box from underneath her bed. She’s been staring at it for over an hour now even after everyone has already gone to bed, contemplating if she should open it or not. The big box in front of her had appeared on her bed the same day Erica arrived back home, and delicately placed on top was an envelope with her name written on it. She still recalls the curiosity she had when she read the note and looked through the contents of the box, unsure of its origins or its sender. After inspecting its contents, she unfortunately found out it was probably better to have never looked at all. It only sparked anger, resentment, and despair.

 Believing the box was of no use to her, she hid it away — out of sight and out of mind. Evidently, it’s clear that the “out of sight, out of mind” mentality didn’t last for long; it wouldn’t have if she didn’t have that very box sitting in front of her. Will she get the answers she wants? Will her fears be confirmed? Will she have to return to Raccoon City? 

 She won’t know until she opens it…

 She sucks in a breath, pulls open the flaps, and flattens them down the sides of the box. 

 Inside the box is a variety of items; there are massive bands of cash in different currencies, a debit card with seemingly no expiration date, several forms of identification including a Raccoon City issued drivers’ license, a birth certificate, and passports, various permits for all kinds of weapons and defense items, two Umbrella issued binders, a palm sized remote with two buttons, and an opened envelope. She eyes the envelope before she picks it up and removes the card inside.

⋆

Dear Miss Slater,

You were the only one of our candidates to make it out of our “RESIDENT EVIL” project alive! As your reward, you are gifted with a remote control that allows you to travel to and from this place whenever you please.

RULES :

• Do not expect to arrive on the same date and time for each trip; it is randomized.

• Remember that if you leave at any point, any events that will or already have transpired during your stay will never have happened.

• Only you will retain the experience and knowledge of said events; meaning, nobody will remember you or any of the events that have happened.

The box we provided contains all the essentials you will need in order to properly navigate through Raccoon City and beyond its city limits. We trust you will make correct use of them.

Sincerely,

Anonymous

⋆

 Erica’s facial expression changes from curiosity to disgust as she finishes reading. She must have blocked out so much revolving around Raccoon City that she totally forgot it was actually a simulation that had been created for someone’s sick form of entertainment, and Erica had been picked to play through it. She can still recall where she was when she left the survival horror simulation; she had just escaped Raccoon City before it was destroyed, and she ended up hiding out with a group of survivors. When night came around and everyone had fallen asleep, she awoke to find a similar envelope informing her she had ‘completed the game’ and her reward was that she could go home. Alongside the envelope was a remote that had a singular button. Despite being skeptical, she didn’t hesitate to press the button, hopeful she could finally return back to her old life; back to her quaint little town, to her cozy house, to her loving family, and to her wonderful life. To her surprise, she ended up back home on the same day, same time, and the same year she had been in prior to arriving in Raccoon City. It was almost as if she had never left in the first place.

 Although she’s deeply disturbed to know she was just some pawn in somebody’s sick game, considering all that she’s been through she isn’t sure if anything could disturb her anymore than what she’s already suffered through. It doesn’t help that she has no idea who the anonymous sender even is or why they picked her for their project. Those aren’t the only questions on her mind, either. Why was she the sole survivor? Why did they give her these items? Did they know she would return? Did they intend for her to return? Aside from her constant questions, she has absolutely no answers — no hints, no reasoning, and no name — and she’s left wondering if she’ll ever get them. Maybe it’s for the best that she doesn’t know who the mastermind behind all that she’s experienced is. If she actually knew who did this, she would probably want to enact some kind of revenge…but what would that do? 

 Simple. It wouldn’t do anything. 

 It wouldn’t erase what she went through; it wouldn’t erase her trauma or all the nights of misery and sleeplessness. It certainly wouldn’t make her feel better either. Well, she corrected, it probably would make her feel better in the short term but not in the long term. 

 Erica sighs and stares at the words of the note, reading them over and over again until they’re practically drilled into her head. She needs to remember these rules because she doesn’t know why she’s being called back to Raccoon City, but she does know that this is just a game…

 … and she’s going to play .

 Erica picks up the dual button remote and holds it in her hands, and her thumb brushes along the side of the device. The buttons on the device are labeled ‘RC’ and ‘H,’ ‘Raccoon City’ and ‘Home’ respectively, and more questions start to run through her mind as she prepares herself for what she’s going to do. 

 Can she stop the outbreak? Can she stop Umbrella? Would stopping Umbrella do anything? Can they really be brought to justice? Would it change anything ? She isn’t sure, but she’ll find out what’s going on; she’ll find out why she’s being called back to Raccoon City. She takes another glance around her room before she pulls out a backpack, placing the items from the box into the backpack before she gets to the remote. She sets it to the side for now before moving on to grab an outfit or two from her dresser. She doesn’t plan on packing very much, intent on taking just enough to wear for a couple of days. Where she’s going, she can just buy what she needs; after all, she wasn’t given a bunch of money for nothing. She might as well put it all to some use.

 As Erica changes out of her pajamas, she catches a glimpse of her backside in the mirror. At the top of her back just above her shoulder blades is a tiny tattoo of a barcode. The skew number reads 277 - 00; a cruel identification of her suffering and another reminder of the horrors she experienced in that dreadful city — trapped in that pharmaceutical company’s grasp. Umbrella branded her, and she’s been forced to look at it everyday since she returned home…and she most likely will for the rest of her life. She shoves her pessimistic thoughts away, sliding her head through the neck hole of her shirt as more and more questions plague her mind. 

 What if she could actually stop Umbrella from destroying Raccoon City and killing thousands of innocent people? What if she uses the evidence she has? Would it support her in her cause? In Erica’s possession is a set of Umbrella issued binders containing a history of Umbrella’s records, detailing their research and experiments on bio-organic and viral weaponry from the beginning of their founding in the late 1960s to the late 1980s — plus files detailing her own experimentation. The positive side to being held captive in one of Umbrella’s facilities was the access to files and various pieces of evidence, and during her escape from Raccoon City she stole them with the sole intention of using them as hard evidence against Umbrella. Her plans ultimately changed when she was given the chance to return home; she intended to give them to the people she could trust to fight back against Umbrella, but it seemed fate had different plans when the binders returned back to the real world with her. She assumed she would never need to use them again, but it appears today is the day they become useful. 

 It seems like not so long ago Erica was eager to get back to the real world and now, in an ironic twist of events, she’s returning to the very place she had been pretending never existed in the first place. She isn’t entirely sure what her purpose of returning to Raccoon City exactly is but, along with the damning evidence, she’s got everything she needs in order to successfully blend in as a citizen of Raccoon and take Umbrella down — if that’s what she’s supposed to be doing. She can live as a civilian for a while until she can figure out what’s going on, or at the very least, can formulate a plan for herself.

 As she finishes putting on her clothes, she turns to see her dog Charles spinning around excitedly. He’s wagging his tail, staring expectantly at her with his sweet face. She looks at him and frowns. She’s going to miss him, the other dogs, and, more importantly, her family — but she knows she can always come back to them. She glances at the two-buttoned remote on the bed, and a sense of comfort rests on her shoulders as a relieved grin spreads across her lips. She’s glad to know if she ever decides she wants to leave the city, she has the freedom to return to the comfort of her home and family. As long as she has this remote, everything will be fine. 

 After putting on and tying her shoes, Erica leans down and starts to pet her furry baby. She pats his head and scratches behind his ear before picking him up and pulling him in for a hug. She gives him a kiss before placing him onto the bed. 

 “I’ll see you around, handsome.” She says, and he starts to spin in a circle as she straightens herself. He doesn’t understand where she’s going, but his blissful ignorance keeps a smile on her face. “I’ll miss you.” The murmur leaves her mouth as she slings the backpack over her shoulder and picks up the remote. She stares at the device again before she glances at her dog one last time. Her eyes water a little as her heart breaks. She really will miss him, but she’ll be okay. She’s a big girl.

“Here goes nothing.” She jokes, taking a deep breath.

 She isn’t sure what’s supposed to happen when she presses the button, and she isn’t sure if she should be doing this, but it’s not like she has anything to lose, right?

 She places her thumb over the ‘RC’ button and she shoves the device into her pocket. She anxiously presses the button and closes her eyes to prepare herself for what might come next — aaand nothing. 

 Erica opens her eyes and frowns. Isn’t something supposed to happen? She pressed the right button, didn’t she? She’s about to pull the remote from her pocket before a sudden flash of light consumes her room.

 Then suddenly, she’s gone.

Chapter Text

LOCATION:┃Outskirts of Raccoon City, Missouri.
DATE: ┃December 10th, 1997.
TIME: ┃10:36:57 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “Are you sure she’s okay, honey? We should probably take her to the hospital.”

 “I’m tellin’ you, she’s fine .”

 “What if she catches hypothermia, Todd? We have to — ”

 “Listen, Tammy. Hypothermia is the least of her worries. Do you remember when that loud boom made the power go out?”

 “Y-Yes, but — ”

 “Well when I looked outside, I saw somethin’ . There was a flash of lightnin’, and I saw what looked like someone fallin’ from the sky.”

 “ Todd — ”

 “No, really! Why would I make somethin’ up like this?”

 “Are you telling me you think she fell from the sky?”

 “...Maybe I am, Tammy. I know it sounds crazy but I…I know what I saw .”

 The sound of a male and female voice talking causes Erica to stir awake, and she shudders as she’s overwhelmed by the feeling of being cold. Her body is freezing , but she can feel it slowly warming up to the toasty temperature of the room she’s in. She can feel a warm, wet cloth on top of her forehead, heating her face. The smell of cinnamon fills the air, and the sound of a crackling fire can be heard in the background. Where is she? What’s going on? Why is she so cold? Her eyes open to glance around the room; it’s a very homely living room decorated with very comfortable furniture and all sorts of trinkets and knick knacks alike, and standing around her is a middle-aged couple staring at her in concern and confusion. The couple must be Todd and Tammy, the voices she had heard address each other as she stirred awake. She feels around in her hoodie pocket, worried that she lost the remote she had used for what feels like moments before — but as her fingertips brush against it, her tight stomach releases with a sense of relief. Thank God . Who knows what would happen if she lost this thing.

 “What’s going on? Where am I?” She questions as she sits up, and the couple share glances with one another. Todd speaks first, “Don’t worry, yer safe here. We found you outside passed out in the snow.”

 Erica has nothing to worry about in regards to safety; she’s completely fine — they should be more concerned about their own safety.; even in this very moment, she can hear the sound of their heartbeats tickling her ears. The statement that left the older man’s mouth after that, however, catches her off guard.  ‘ Outside in the snow ?’ What snow ?

 “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Can I get you anything?” Tammy asks, worried as Erica removes the cloth that was laying across her forehead and hands it to her.

 “Oh, yes ma’am, I’m fine, I —  ” She suddenly notices that her backpack is not with her; where is it ? She looks around the room but doesn't see it. “I…had a bag with me, have you seen it by any chance?”

 “You mean this one?” Todd lifts up her backpack from behind a chair. Her attention immediately focuses on it, and she smiles with a nod as she’s hit by a wave of solace. “Yes sir, it is!” She shifts on the couch to face him, placing her feet on the floor as he hands it to her. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without this.” She remarks as she clutches it close to her chest. When Todd found her outside, he found her backpack not far off from where she was. He assumed it was hers, and he’s glad he assumed right; he wouldn’t want anyone losing their belongings just as much as he doesn’t want his own lost. 

 “You don’t know what you would’ve done if we hadn’t found you, either. How did you manage to get yourself caught in this kind of weather?” Tammy scolds, and Erica looks at her. What does she say? How does she explain how she showed up on these strangers’ property passed out in the snow? She quickly comes up with a lie, and she lets it slip with ease. “I was trying to hitchhike, but I guess nobody saw me or wanted to give me a lift, heh.”

 The older woman raises her eyebrows in surprise. “You walked through all that snow? Now what would make you want to do a thing like that?”

 Erica sheepishly shrugs, “I guess I didn’t anticipate the weather.” 

 “You almost froze yourself to death.” Tammy frowns. 

 “Where were you intendin’ on headin’, if you don’t mind me askin’, Miss…?” Todd starts, and Erica swallows. “I’m, uh, headed to Raccoon City.” She replies, and once she realizes he’s asking for her name she pauses for a moment. She has the opportunity to use her real name this time instead of using a fake one like the last time she was here, but there’s a part of her that feels reluctant. So far this couple seems like they’re good and honest people, but she decides it’s better to use an alias instead of telling them who she is. It might make things less complicated for her later. “You can just call me Starr, and who am I thanking for coming to my rescue?” 

 ‘Hm, odd name.’ Todd thinks to himself, but he decides to brush it off. “Todd Derricks,” He gestures towards himself before gesturing to the woman standing next to the couch, “and this is my wife, Tamera Derricks.” Tamera smiles warmly, and Erica stands to shake both of their hands. “Well, thank you very much for your help, Mr. and Mrs. Derricks. I hope I don’t come across as rude, but I actually have somewhere to be. Is there a bus stop nearby or a cab service I can call?” Todd shakes his head. “It’s not rude at all, Miss Starr. Luckily for you, Raccoon City is just a little drive away. Not too far from the farm, maybe a good ten, fifteen minutes. I don’t mind makin’ a trip to town.” He turns to his wife, “Is there anythin’ you need while I’m up there, honey?”

 Erica immediately puts her hands up in dismissal at the offer, “Oh you don’t have to — ” 

“ Hogwash! My pop always instilled in me that if I'm able to lend a helpin’ hand, then I should. It’s no problem at all.” The older man interrupts her, and the statement makes her beam in appreciation. “You’re very generous, thank you.” She nods her head in appreciation.

 As she slides the straps of the backpack over her shoulders, a thought suddenly crosses her mind. Although she knows where she arrived, Erica isn’t sure when she arrived. The note that came with the remote said the next time she came back to Raccoon City the time and date would be different, but how much difference is there? 

 “Um, by any chance do you happen to know what the date is?” She politely asks, and the response that leaves Tamera’s mouth takes Erica by surprise.

 “It’s December 10th.”

  December 10th? December 10th, what ? She clears her throat, hoping to get more clarification. “...What’s the year ?”

 Todd and Tamera give each other a look of confusion before the older woman speaks. “Why 1997, of course. Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart? Did you happen to hit your head, too?” She questions, stepping towards Erica to give her forehead a feel with the back of her hand before pulling it back. Erica laughs a little at the maternal gesture, “Yes, I’m fine, I…I guess I’m just cold and tired.”

 “Well, don’t you worry about your little head, then. My husband will get you where you need to go in no time.” Tamera chimes as Todd chuckles and removes his hefty jacket from the coat rack beside the door. She gives him his keys and a kiss on the cheek as he reaches for his hat. Erica watches them, and they remind her of her loving parents. It’s a shame she had to leave her family behind, but she wants answers and to find out why she’s here. Why is she back in Raccoon City? Why does it need her? What is she supposed to do? 

 Todd turns to the young woman and asks her if she’s ready, causing her to slip out of her thoughts. She nods and the two leave out the front door, waving goodbye to Tamera who tells them to stay safe on the road. They approach Todd’s large truck and enter the vehicle, both of them shuddering from the nippy cold air and the freezing snow. Once the engine warms up, a wave of hot air falls over the both of them and they set out onto the snow covered roads.

 Not long into the ride, Todd looks over to Erica before clearing his throat. “I don’t mean to pry Miss Starr, but I’m curious. What are yer plans in Raccoon City?”

 Erica feels like irony slaps her right in the face as the inquiry slips past his lips. She doesn’t answer at first, too distracted by the sound of his heartbeat ringing in her ears to say anything. After a moment, she lets out a sigh. “I…don’t really know myself, honestly, but something’s calling me back here.”

 He furrows his brows. “Back? Have you been to Raccoon before or somethin’?”

 She shifts her attention to look out the window, avoiding looking at him. “Yeah…” She murmurs, “A long time ago, but I had to leave.”

 A silence settles between them, but Todd eventually breaks it. “I know yer not askin’ for an old man’s input, but it sounds like you didn’t want to.”

 She turns her head back to him, taken aback by his response. Of course she wanted to leave. She had every reason to leave, but to him it sounds like she didn’t want to? What kind of sense is that? How does she even come across that way? “I don’t see what you mean.” She laughs out of confusion.

 “Well, if you wanted to leave, you wouldn’t be comin’ back right?” 

 Erica stares at him. He has a point, but in her eyes she doesn’t think she has a choice in the matter. After all, the only reason she’s here is to figure out why she’s here. Why would she want to be here other than to put a stop to her struggles and constant questioning? “What do you think is callin’ you to the city?” He asks, breaking her away from her train of thought. “I haven’t got a clue.” She says, fumbling with the zipper of her backpack. 

 “Heh. Raccoon City is like that. It’s a strange place, but people flock to it all the time for all sorts of reasons. Just because you don’t know what it is doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

 His words stick with her, because he’s right. Raccoon City isn’t really as bad as Erica makes it out to be. Secretly, there’s a part of her that’s glad to be back — excited, even — excited to be able to see the people she left behind. However, she’s quickly reminded that not all dreams can come true. There’s more than one rule to this game she’s playing; along with the difference of dates, everyone Erica ever met during her previous time in Raccoon City no longer remembers her or any of the events that transpired between them all — only she does. It’s as if everything reset itself; a restart . 

 “Well, it looks like we’re in town, Miss Starr. Is there anywhere specific you’d like me to drop you off?”

 Todd’s words make her glance out the truck’s window, and she eyes the streets outside. Raccoon City looks just like she remembers it, albeit covered in a blanket of snow. The glow of street lamps and street signs compliment the white decorating the town, and as her gaze searches the roads it lands on a familiar diner. Emmy’s Diner. It’s been a long time since she’s seen it, and it looks just as warm and welcoming as it did the last time she saw it. Well, before it was overrun by zombies. She can already smell the delicious breakfast foods cooking inside. She presses the button on her seatbelt, unclicking it and sliding it off of her. “Here is fine, I know a place nearby.” 

 The truck comes to a slow stop, and she pulls the door handle to open the door. She steps out onto the sidewalk, snow crunching loudly beneath her feet. She grips the backpack strap in her hand, and when she faces Todd to close the door he gives a smile. “You stay safe now, you hear?” He advises.

 The statement sends a feeling of gratitude through her chest, and she wants to repay him for his generosity. Suddenly, she has an idea. She unzips her backpack, slides out a few hundred dollar bills from one of the bands of cash, zips it back up, and holds it out for him to take as payment. He raises his brows in shock, and he waves a hand dismissively.

 “I couldn’t possibly — ” He starts but she cuts him off, not wanting to take no as an answer. “No, really. I want you to have it. You and your wife deserve it. You’re kind people.”

 The older man reluctantly takes it, but moments later a look of disbelief turns into a look of happiness. “ God bless you .” 

 With that, Erica shuts the truck door and allows the man to be on his way. Once the sputtering sound of the truck’s muffler disappears down the street, she slings one of the backpack straps over her shoulder and focuses on the Emmy’s sign a couple of buildings away from her. Her stomach growls loudly, and she laughs to herself. She should probably warm up and get something to eat before she looks for somewhere to stay.

 As she reaches the diner’s front entrance, she notices a newspaper stand to the right of the doors. She stares at it for a moment. Where she’s from not very many people buy actual newspapers anymore — they simply read them online. It saves a lot of time and money, but that’s not her sole focus here; she might find some place to rent. She walks over to the stand, and on the display she can see something on the front page that’s exactly what she’s looking for — an advertisement for an apartment.

⋆

FOR RENT

1, 2 BEDROOM APTS.

JACK ST.

CONTACT: 012 - 789 - 6237

⋆

 ‘Jack Street...’ 

 The name of the street sounds familiar, but Erica can’t remember why. Once she eats some breakfast, she’ll head to the address listed and find out for herself why that is. After memorizing the address and the contact information, she enters Emmy’s.

 The doorbell chimes as she steps inside the quaint little establishment, and the smell of coffee, pancakes, syrup, sausage, and bacon fills Erica’s nose. There’s not very many people in the diner save for a few patrons sitting at the bar counter. She smiles to herself when she finds an isolated booth to sit in, and she places her backpack next to her as she slides into the booth. A waitress walks up with a friendly smile and a menu, and Erica turns to her as she approaches the table. She reads the waitress’s name tag; Dana Spinskey. 

 “Can I get you anything?” She asks sweetly while handing her the menu.

 “Coffee is fine for now. Uh, milk and creamer, please.” Erica smiles.

 “Sure can do.” The woman replies.

 “Thank you.”

 As she waits for her coffee, Erica leans back in her seat and scans the menu.

The waitress returns with her coffee in a matter of minutes, placing it gently on the table. “I’ll give you a few minutes to look at the menu.” Dana disappears once again and Erica’s stomach growls in anticipation as she reads the many options: sausage, eggs, hash browns, bacon, biscuits and gravy, waffles, pancakes, etc. She’s tempted to order everything she sees; the hunger is overwhelming. After she’s finished looking through her options, she’s met by Dana’s warm and friendly face once again.

 “Are you ready to order?”

 “Uh yes, ma’am, I’ll have two plates of bacon and sausage, a plate of hash browns, aaand a plate of pancakes, please.”

 Dana is dumbfounded by the words that leave this customer’s lips. That’s a lot of food — is she sure she heard that right? She clears her throat and asks for clarification.

 “You…want plates ? As in, you want two plates of bacon, two plates of sausage, a plate of hash browns, and a plate of pancakes?”

 Erica notices the woman’s confused expression, and she nods as she confirms her order. “Yes, ma’am. That’s what I said.” She says as she hands the menu back to Dana — an innocent smile spread across her face. The woman stares at her for a moment before writing the order down and heading towards the kitchen. It takes a while before Dana comes back with a tray loaded with Erica’s order. The smell of the food causes her mouth to water, and she thanks the waitress for her service. As soon as she’s left to her meal, she doesn’t waste time and dives right in — much to the awe of the staff.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City, Missouri.
TIME: ┃11:56:25 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After filling up on a hearty breakfast, Erica pays for her meal and makes her way to the address listed in the advertisement she memorized. As she comes upon a street sign that reads ‘Jack St.’ on the corner, her eyes peer up to meet the face of an apartment building. 

 Oh …that’s why the street name sounded so familiar; it’s the same street name as Jill Valentine’s apartment building. 

 Jill Valentine, a member of the Special Tactics And Rescue Service (S.T.A.R.S.), is one of the protagonists of Resident Evil and, at one point, Erica’s friend. When Erica first arrived in Raccoon City, she was found naked and unconscious on the outskirts of town and taken to a nearby hospital. When she awoke, she had nowhere to go and no idea what to do. Luckily, Jill invited Erica into her home, determined to help her. The two developed a friendship and a close bond, and that bond was ultimately severed the moment she decided to return to the real world and leave everything from Raccoon City behind — including Jill. As she stares up at the building, Erica can envision the apartment complex up in flames — destroyed during the destruction of Raccoon City. A lump forms in her throat but she quickly swallows it, shoving away the dreadful images from her mind. 

 ‘No, that hasn’t happened yet. I have plenty of time to stop it before it does.’

 The tickle of a snowflake on her nose scares away her pestering fears, and she sighs. While she’s nervous to potentially run into people she once knew, Erica reminds herself she’s just here for an apartment and everything will be fine. Even if she runs into Jill, the chances that the woman will remember her are unlikely. She sighs to herself at the thought and, after gathering her courage, walks up the entrance steps to enter the building. The door closes behind her as she steps into a small lobby. 

 In the lobby, Erica notices a man sitting at a desk in an office window. She steps towards the door and takes a deep breath before knocking.

 “Come in.”

 As she opens the door, she’s met by the face of a stressed looking man. He has bags under his eyes, making him appear exhausted. He’s on the older side and has a five o’clock shadow forming, and she can see a small coffee stain on his shirt. ‘He’s probably seen better days.’ She thinks before clearing her throat. “Hi, I’m here in response to your advertisement about some apartments for rent.”

 The landlord glosses her over, glancing her up and down. To him, she doesn’t look like someone who needs an apartment — to him, she looks like a young lady who needs to go back home to her mommy and daddy. She looks far too young to be renting her own apartment and he’s about to tell her just that, but he reminds himself he’s been falling behind on bills lately. He could really use the money… if she has any that is . 

 “Have a seat.” He mumbles, and Erica closes the door behind her before taking a seat.

 As she sits down in a chair, she takes a look around the office. There are some Christmas decorations here and there, and there’s a radio playing ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ on low volume. There’s a picture of a man and woman in a cozy embrace next to a plaque on his desk with the name Gavin Pines.

 “How are you this morning?” She smiles.

 The jolly tone of her voice causes him to flick his eyes in her direction. Her cheerful demeanor puts him off, but maybe he’s just being a stickler. “I’m doing fine.” He grunts, turning away from her to pull out some folders and paperwork. ‘ Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed.’ She muses to herself, and he sniffs as he pulls a pen from his shirt pocket. “So, Miss…?”

 “Erica Slater.” She forms a straight smile and fumbles with the zipper of her duffle bag. “Right.” He flips through some paperwork and clears his throat.

 “I’m afraid there’s a long waiting list — ” He starts but Erica doesn’t give him enough time to finish his sentence when she pulls out some cash from her backpack and places it on his desk. He raises his brows and stares at the money. He starts to question her as to why she has this kind of money, but he stops himself. Who is he to question people? Especially when money is involved? Plus, the stack of cash she placed before him is enough for a Security Deposit, Application Fees, a few months rent worth, Utilities, etc. It’s more than enough collateral, and it appears she’s very eager to rent one of his apartments. Her small gesture is enough to convince him — money is money after all . 

 “You were saying?” She asks.

 He looks at her for a moment before giving her the first grin she’s seen on his face since she walked into his office. 

 “I was about to say there’s a long waiting list, but uh, I’m sure I can make an exception.” He chuckles, quickly retrieving another folder from one of his drawers. It seems as if the money she gave him turned his entire attitude around, evident by his eagerness. She can feel a twinge of excitement tingle in her stomach. So far, so good. 

 He flips through a couple of packets of paperwork, “Are you looking at a one bedroom or a two bedroom?”

 Erica ponders it for a moment, but she ultimately decides she may as well treat herself; she has the money, and this is technically the first time she’ll be living on her own — why not? 

 “I’m looking at a two bedroom.”

 “I can go ahead and show you the place if you’d like, and you can get the paperwork back to me by tomorrow afternoon.”

 She raises her brows at the sudden generosity, and a wide smile grows on her lips. “That would be great, thank you.”

 “Fantastic.” He remarks, quickly pocketing the money and handing her the paperwork to fill out. He opens a drawer and hands her a copy of a key before standing. “If you’ll follow me, Miss Slater.” She promptly follows him out of the office towards a stairwell where he leads her up several flights of stairs. 

 As they reach the apartment door, he unlocks it and opens it for her. Gavin allows her to step inside and look around. The kitchen is a quaint one with a fridge and dishwasher already installed, and as she walks through the little kitchen she notices a tiny laundry room with a washer and dryer side by side. She checks out the spacious living room, designed with two large windows that light up the room. To her left is the hallway leading to a guest bedroom and a guest bathroom, and to her right is the master bedroom. A smile lingers on her lips as she returns to the landlord and shakes his hand. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

 “You’re very welcome.” He nods, handing her the envelope with the key. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Remember to bring me your paperwork, Miss Slater.”

 “I will, Mr. Pines. I’ll make sure to have the paperwork dropped off at your office tomorrow morning.” She smiles as she takes the envelope from him. 

 “Good!” He chirps, and he closes the apartment door behind him as he leaves. As soon as she’s alone, Erica takes another stroll around the apartment. She has her own place now — and she’ll have it looking like her own in no time.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃NEST, beneath Raccoon City.
DATE: ┃December 10th, 1997.
TIME: ┃12:02:11 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “What is it that you insisted upon showing me, William?” 

 A voice questions in an annoyed manner as the door to a lab slides open with a hiss. In steps an intimidating man named Albert Wesker, one of Umbrella’s senior researchers and chief of security, who makes his way over to a disheveled looking man sitting at a computer. The man at the computer whips his head around at the sound of someone entering the room; a man known as William Birkin, another one of Umbrella’s senior researchers and top virologists of the company. He quickly straightens himself and waves for Wesker to come, “You have to see this! It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.” The blonde folds his arms behind his back as he approaches the desk with reluctance — the only part of him eager to witness whatever William wanted to show him just so he’ll stop being pestered — and he peers over his colleague’s shoulder. 

 On the screen is a series of images depicting an abnormally large electrical spike in an area outside of Raccoon City, and he wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he hadn’t noticed something; something… peculiar . In one of the images, there’s a small dot in the middle; a dot that looks like the silhouette of a person. Wesker furrows his brows in confusion. What is that ?

 “What exactly am I looking at here?” He plays coy, trying to pretend he doesn’t see it. He won’t admit he can’t comprehend it, so he hopes William will elaborate. 

 “Don’t you see it?” William points directly to what Wesker had noticed, and Wesker inspects it again to satisfy the other before he purses his lips. “I see it, but what is it?” William sighs out of frustration. “Why do you think I called you here? I’ve been trying to figure out what it is myself, and the only conclusion I’ve been able to find is that it’s humanoid.”

 “You’re joking …” Wesker deadpans, and William scoffs. “Well, do you have any better ideas?”

 “Not in particular.”

 “Not in p — ” William’s eye twitches and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Albert, look at that image and tell me that that does not look like the shape of a human being.” He points directly at the humanoid shape, and Wesker eyes him. Is he being serious right now?

 “Are you implying that a human being fell from the sky at that very location?” He questions, and William stares at him before looking back at the screen. There’s the possibility that he might be wrong about the whole thing, but there’s no denying that it looks like a person . It might be a glitch in the satellite, but William knows that the spike of electrical energy is no glitch. The amount of energy that was caught by their radars was a staggering amount compared to anything he’s ever seen before and he knows Wesker can see that. However, now that the explanation comes out of Wesker’s own mouth, William can understand why his colleague believes him to be delusional.

 “You may be right. Now that I say it out loud it does sound a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it?” He sighs, and he lets out a tired laugh. “Well, if you’re not going to support my delusions then at least tell me you can see the levels of energy here. They’re massive . What do you think the origin of it could be?”

 Wesker purses his lips in thought. Birkin has a good point; the images do display a significant power that the likes of Umbrella has never seen before, much less William and Wesker. It looks like a mass of electrical currents forming a giant cloud of energy, and it lasted for only moments before it dissipated. While that doesn’t explain the humanoid spec in the epicenter of the energy cloud, one can only theorize that it was some sort of lightning storm — although one that Wesker’s never seen before. He could theorize all day but he has things to do and places to be, and he’s not interested enough to care. Umbrella will most likely send a team to take a look around the area if it’s that much of a concern.

 “I’m not sure. Have you asked any of your subordinates?” 

 William frowns. “No, I haven’t, but if you’re not going to be of any assistance then I may as well.” He speeds off in the direction of the door, disappearing as it slides open and closed.

 Wesker is left alone in the laboratory, and his gaze fixates on the computer screen again. It does look like a person, but why would Wesker entertain such an idea? How foolish would he come across to believe it could be true? It’s probably nothing, and Birkin is just searching for something to show for.

 Little does Wesker know, however, of how wrong he really is. 

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃December 15th, 1997.
TIME: ┃2:22:40 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Several days have passed since Erica moved into the building on Jack St., and over the course of these several days she’s made her new apartment into her very own fairly quick. The apartment’s once barren walls are now decorated with pieces of artwork and posters alike, along with other wall decorations like metal flowers and butterflies. She managed to find herself a complete white bedroom set, consisting of a headboard and bed frame, a couple of nightstands, a dresser, and a vanity. For her living room she bought a small sectional couch, a rustic coffee table, a basic tv stand, a hefty television to sit on top of said tv stand, and a VCR to put on one of the tv stand’s shelves. In one of the corners of the living room she put a small table and her new record player on top of it. There’s also a basket of a few record albums sitting underneath the table. Her bathrooms, laundry room, and kitchen didn’t need much decorating — just the essentials for bathing, cleaning, and cooking. She didn’t buy much for her guest bedroom, choosing only to purchase a bookshelf to fill books with, a comfy chair for when she wanted to read, and an easel for when she wanted to paint. She also bought a cabinet with hidden compartments in order to hide the items she arrived in Raccoon City with in case her apartment is potentially compromised; meaning in case someone breaks in, they won’t be able to find any of it. Regardless, she’s happy with her new home; happy she’s getting the opportunity to be on her own for a change, but that happiness doesn’t last long when she remembers that her apartment is in Raccoon City. 

 She’s in Raccoon City for a reason… whatever that reason is . She hasn’t figured it out yet, and once she does she’ll start working on a plan. Secretly, there’s a part of her that hopes the plan won’t involve running into people she once knew, including Jill Valentine. She’s afraid she’ll be overcome with guilt — afraid Jill will recognize her and scrutinize her for leaving all those months ago. 

 Although she’s afraid to see Jill again, Erica hasn’t so much as ran into her once — even when she’s gone out for errands. She’s relieved to save herself from an emotional rollercoaster for the time being, but what is Erica going to do if she does run into her? How is she going to handle herself if she comes face to face with her? What is she going to do if Chris is with her?

 ‘ Chris… ’ She furrows her brows in thought, guilt panging against her chest as she thinks about the name.

 Chris Redfield, a skilled marksman who is also part of the S.T.A.R.S. team, is one of Jill’s colleagues and another protagonist of Resident Evil. Jill and Chris happened to be the ones who found Erica on the outskirts of Raccoon City after an anonymous call was made to the Raccoon City Police Department, and they took her to the hospital where Jill ended up offering Erica shelter. Chris was against the entire thing, but he ended up relenting when Jill explained her reasoning was to help keep her safe and get her back home. What they didn’t know was that they wouldn’t be able to help her get back home; Erica was nowhere near where she needed to be. She was a real person, and they were just pixels on a screen. At least, that’s what she told herself in the beginning. Over time, the relationships she developed changed her mind. Her bond with Jill wasn’t the only close bond she had — Erica and Chris developed feelings for each other, and when she had the chance to be with him she ran away like a coward, unknowingly right into the palms of Umbrella’s hands. Once she was free from their grasp, however, she was able to reunite with Jill during the fall of Raccoon City. The two traveled via helicopter to the remaining S.T.A.R.S. members’ hideout, and Erica will never forget the look on Chris’s face when he saw her again. He had so much shock and relief on his face, but deep down she could sense he was afraid of her. She could sense they were all afraid of her. Jill, Chris, Barry… They never needed to say it, but she knew what they were all thinking — how could she not be when it was written on all of their faces? They could have lied to her and told her all the excuses in the world but she knew the truth; she knew they would never look at her the same. They could only look at her like a monster or some sad case. So, once she was given the opportunity to return back to the real world, she took it with no hesitation…

 …but now she’s back; back to find out whatever this town has left to offer her.

 Her eyes make contact with the world outside when they lock on the window, and they watch as snowflakes fall from the sky. She approaches the window to peer at the streets down below, and she notices there’s a lot of traffic going on today; cars and people alike flood the streets, bustling with energy. She watches for a few moments before she wonders if she should go out, too. Maybe she could explore the town a little. She didn't exactly do that the last time she was here.

 As she turns around to grab something warm to throw on, her stomach growls. She sighs in irritation and decides to walk over to the refrigerator instead, opening it to count her inventory; since her last trip to the store she’s down to only two pounds of beef and a small container of pig’s blood. She has plenty of snacks that fill her cabinets and shelves, but those aren’t able to satisfy her like red meat can. Since she’s already heading out, she can run by a store or two. She grabs a piece of pig’s blood from the small container and shoves it into her mouth, cringing as she chews and swallows. A shudder runs through her spine as she closes the fridge and heads towards her bedroom. Ugh, gross .

 After throwing on some warmer clothes, Erica grabs a heavy coat off of the coat rack near her front door. She slides her house key off the kitchen counter and into her hand, shoving it into the pocket of her coat. She steps over to the front door and slides her feet into the holes of her new combat boots sitting next to it. She leans down to tie them before she pauses for a moment. She’s forgetting something; what is it that she’s forgetting? …Oh! Right , she needs money if she’s going to go shopping. Duh .

 She finishes tying her shoes and enters her room to retrieve some cash and her debit card from her nightstand, sliding them into her other coat pocket before heading back towards the front door. She then locks said door behind her, descends her building’s stairwell, and walks out the front entrance.

 After making her way down the next few blocks, Erica finds herself at a stop light. She stops in her tracks at the edge of the sidewalk, patiently waiting for the ‘DON’T WALK’ sign to change when the sound of singing catches her ears. She turns her head in the direction of the holiday hymns to spot a group of carolees standing in front of the gates of Raccoon Park. There are several attendants in front of them, happily listening or tipping them for their time. A smile grows on Erica’s lips at the sight, and she wonders if it’s a positive sign for her or not. She shifts her attention back to the street sign when she’s suddenly hit in the face by a large piece of paper. The sudden impact takes her by surprise and she gasps before reaching her hands up to grab at the paper. She pulls it from her face, frantically looking around the area to see if anybody noticed her embarrassing moment. Luckily for her, any citizen walking or driving the streets seems to be minding their own business. ‘ Thank God nobody saw that .’ She thinks to herself before she inspects what hit her in the face. It’s a newspaper, and she would have just tossed it in the trash had her gaze not fallen on an advertisement listed in one of the job sections. 

⋆

NOW HIRING
Special Tactics And Rescue Services (S.T.A.R.S.) Secretary Position
APPLY TODAY!

RACCOON CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT
WARREN ST.

For more information, please call 012-345-6789

⋆

Erica raises a brow in curiosity. Since when did S.T.A.R.S. have a secretary position? As far as she knows, there never was one. She rereads the words on the page over and over but the words are right there on the page. It makes her think; it might be nothing, but she has a hunch that this must be a sign — a sign that might lead her to her reason for being here. She bites into her lower lip in thought. What if she applied for and took this position? What if by taking this position she could get close to the S.T.A.R.S. members and save them from the inevitable? What if…they really don’t remember her anymore? 

 A frown befalls her face. Erica knows that if the rule about the time and dates being different is true, then that means the rule that everyone she became close with won’t remember her is true as well. Only she will remember them…

 With the shake of her head, she brushes off her gloomy thoughts. ‘Enough of that negativity, Erica. You have to stop asking yourself ‘what if’ all the time and just go for it. You don’t have to be a coward anymore. If you’ve gotten this far, you can get even farther. You got this.’ She mentally tells herself, and she folds the newspaper in her hands to display the secretary advertisement on the front. 

 As soon as she finds a pay phone, she starts rummaging through one of her pockets to find some change. She luckily finds a quarter and is about to slide it into the slot when she stops herself. Before she gets a job, she should probably get a car first; it would be the smart thing to do. As much as she likes walking, it wouldn’t be realistic to walk to and from work. She starts flipping through the pages of the newspaper in search of some ideas, and then she just so happens to spot a pretty convenient advertisement. 

⋆

FOR SALE
1997 CORVETTE CONVERTIBLE

Pay full price, drive off the lot!

CALL 023-459-1230 TODAY FOR MORE INFORMATION

⋆

 Bingo .

 She bookmarks the vehicle advertisement with one of her fingers so she can get back to it later, flipping back to the front page and sliding her change into the slot to dial the number to the RPD. It rings a couple of times before a woman picks up, answering with a super cheerful tone. 

 “Thank you for calling the Raccoon City Police Department, this is Kimberly Sinstrom, how may I help you?”

 “Yes, ma’am, I was calling to ask about your secretary position for the S.T.A.R.S. division. Is it still available?”

 “Yes, ma’am, it is! You can come by and pick up an application any time before six o’clock this afternoon, but I would like to inform you that today is the last day to apply.”

 ‘Well, that’s convenient.’ Erica thinks. “That’s great. I’ll be there to fill out an application shortly.”

 “May I ask who’s calling so I know who to expect?”

 “Erica Slater.” Erica says before spelling out her name so the receptionist doesn’t accidentally misspell it. “E-R-I-C-A S-L-A-T-E-R.”

 “Well, thank you very much for calling Miss Slater, and I hope to see you at the department soon!”

 “Alrighty then.”

 “Have a nice day!”

 “You, too.”

 With that, Erica hangs up the payphone and sighs. ‘Guess it’s time to start walking to the dealership.’ She thinks.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
TIME: ┃4:59:32 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After a couple of hours and paperwork later, Erica pulls up to the parking lot of the police department with a brand new 1997 Red Corvette. She’s never had such a sick ride before, much less a car she bought on her own. The smell of the brand new car puts a smile of satisfaction on her face as she removes the keys and steps out. Unfortunately, her smile doesn’t last long when she looks up at the building in front of her. The last time she saw this place it was in complete disarray, overrun by zombies and bodies alike. The image flashes in her mind of the destruction and she sucks in a breath, anxious to walk in and see the faces she once knew. Jill, Chris, everyone…

 She exhales and reassures herself that it’s going to be all part of her plan… whatever that is . Even though she has a theory that she’s supposed to save Raccoon City, she doesn’t have a damn clue what she’s doing.

 After taking a long hard look at the building, she musters up her courage and starts making her way down the walkway and up the entrance steps. She reaches out to grab the door handle and her heart is beating loudly inside of her chest; so loud that she can hear it pounding in her ears as she steps inside and walks right up to the front desk. She doesn't even give herself enough time to look around — she just wants to get in here and get out. The receptionist at the desk spins around in her chair to face Erica with a welcoming smile. “Hello there, how may I help you?”

 Erica gives a smile in return. “Hi, I called earlier and asked about the S.T.A.R.S. secretary position. I left the name Erica Slater.”

 “Oh! Miss Slater! I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.” The receptionist remarks with a laugh, “I’m glad you surprised me.” She says as she turns around and pulls out some paperwork from underneath a nearby stack of paper. As she does this, Erica hears the sound of the receptionist’s heartbeat, but something is off; she can hear another one, too. She believes the heartbeat to be her own at first, riddled with anxiety just by being in the building — but once she realizes it’s not, she feels a sense of confusion. Is the receptionist pregnant? No, there’s no way Erica can know that, but as she listens the sound still persists. Huh . Weird. The thought ends up slipping her mind when the kind woman grabs a pen from a tin container and places it on top of the paperwork before holding them both out to Erica. “If you can fill this out for me, I’ll go ahead and get it processed for you.” 

 Erica takes the pen and paperwork. “Okay, thank you.” She replies and walks away to find a seat as the kind receptionist gets a phone call. Once she finds a place to sit, she clicks open the pen and begins filling out her application. 

 In another part of the lobby, Wesker makes his way down the steps of the second floor to the lobby below, striding past officers and employees alike. Officers who cross his path simply steer clear or lower their gaze, afraid they’ll fall victim to his terrifying stare if they do anything different. Not that it bothers him; he would prefer if people get out of his way. He folds his arms behind his back as he approaches the front desk, waiting for the receptionist to finish her call. She just so happens to notice him out of the corner of her eye, and she quickly says goodbye before turning to face him. “Hello Captain Wesker, how may I help you?” She chirps.

 Erica’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach at the sound of the name slipping past the receptionist’s lips. Albert Wesker. Albert. Fucking . Wesker. The name grips her stomach with an unimaginable feeling of disdain and horror. She feels like she’s played a cruel joke on herself; in her blind desire to help save the people she once called friends, Erica completely forgot that she would have to be around the one person she wished she’d never have to see again for the rest of her life. Her heart starts to race, and her heartbeat pounds in her ears. Her hand starts to shake, and she grips the pen in hopes to subdue it. She refuses to look up from her application, staring at it as anxiety creeps up her spine. Everything’s fine. All she needs to do is just heep her head down.

 “Good afternoon, Mrs. Sinstrom. Has anyone inquired about the secretary position yet?” Wesker asks. He doesn’t expect anyone to apply for the position, and quite soon he’ll have to remove the position entirely if no one does. It’s not like it will be a problem of course. The S.T.A.R.S. members shouldn’t have any issue with a little bit of extra work on their hands.

 “As a matter of fact, someone has.” Kimberly gestures towards Erica sitting opposite to them, “She’s over there filling out an application right now.”

  Erica can feel eyes on her once the statement leaves the receptionist’s mouth; his gaze is burning into her — she knows it. Externally she remains calm and continues filling out her paperwork, pretending she isn’t aware of him watching her. Internally, however, she’s calling him every name in the book and imagining all the violent acts she wants to repay him with. That bastard killed her and turned her into a freak …and he’s just walking around like nothing happened. If she has anything to say about it, he won’t be for long.

 Wesker furrows his brows as he observes the applicant. She appears to him just like any other Raccoon citizen, but as he stares there’s something about her that sticks out to him. Why does she look… familiar ? Has he seen her before? No, he would remember her — he doesn’t just forget someone like that. 

 His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of laughter filling his ears. He glances towards the entrance to see Chris and Jill entering the building with giggles in their mouths and smiles on their faces, but they fade once they realize they’ve been spotted by their captain.

 Wesker clears his throat and sternly addresses them. “Redfield. Valentine. You’re late . Care to explain why?”

 Jill is quick to come up with an excuse, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, Captain. My car broke down just as I was leaving my building.”

 “And I was just giving her a ride.” Chris pipes up, causing Wesker to glare at the younger man before he addresses Jill. “Is that true, Valentine?”

 “Yes, sir.” Jill responds.

 Their captain is quiet for a moment before he gestures his head upstairs. “Go on.” He mutters, causing the two colleagues to start fast walking towards the stairs. Wesker promptly follows behind them, intent on making sure they’re heading where they’re supposed to be. No time for lollygagging today, especially from these two. He doesn’t so much as glance at Erica anymore after this, forgetting about his feeling of deja vu as fast as it came.

 Erica witnesses the three’s entire exchange; part of her can feel her stomach toss and turn in excitement to see her old friends again, but the other part of her can feel her stomach twist and lurch in fear to see one of her murderers. Seeing both Chris and Jill’s faces sparks feelings of guilt, regret, and longing — while seeing Wesker sparks a whole other flame entirely, igniting a massive fire made from gasoline and napalm. Can she really do this? Can she withstand being around them? Can she do this job without letting her emotions get the better of her? She takes one last look at her finished application and purses her lips. Yes, she can do this. She takes a deep breath and stands, walking back to the front desk and holding out the paperwork and the pen for the receptionist to take. Kimberly smiles as she takes them from her, “Thank you so much. We’ll get back to you as soon as we can.”

 “Alrighty. Have a nice evening.” Erica gives her a small smile in return.

 “You, too!”

 Once she leaves the building, she walks back to her car and gets inside. After closing the door, she leans back in her seat and sighs. Tears start to prickle her eyes as she feels overwhelmed by all that just transpired. She blinks them away, quickly reminding herself of the outcome instead of the process. She filled out an application, taking her another step in the right direction. ‘So far so good…’ She thinks, smiling to herself reassuringly. ‘...but there was something else I was supposed to do.’ The silence that overtakes her is interrupted by the sound of her stomach growling, and she lets out a slight laugh. 

 “Oh, right — groceries .”

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃December 19th, 1997.
TIME: ┃7:30:27 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

  Beep ! Beep ! Beep ! Beep ! Beep !

 The sound of an alarm clock blares in her eardrums, screeching at her to wake up. The sleeping woman groans and raises her head, forcing her eyes open to look for her alarm. She spots it, but she closes her sleep filled eyes just as she lowers her hand down to hit the snooze button. She misses it and hits her nightstand instead, and she whines before smashing her fingers down onto the top of the alarm clock to shut it off. The incessant beeping immediately stops and she relaxes into her mattress in relief, even if she can still feel the shrill sound pulsing in her ear drums. She lays there for a moment before she lifts her head to look at the time. 7:30 AM. She rolls over on her back and stares at the popcorn ceiling above in the darkness. There are sounds of cars and early rising citizens outside, and she sighs. 

 Erica has to get up; she has her job interview at the police department this morning at ten. She’s not ready to go, hoping that her alarm clock going off was just a dream, but she knows better. She has already committed herself to doing this job — there’s no going back. 

 She’s making her plan simple; she’ll blend in as a citizen of Raccoon City and use this job as a cover up to befriend and gain the S.T.A.R.S. members trust, and with their help expose Umbrella’s crimes to the world. She has to do this all under Albert Wesker’s nose mind you; a man who is well known for his diligence and keen eye. Erica is afraid he might figure her out before she even starts, but in the worst case scenario he finds out what Erica is rather than what she’s doing. That would be utterly disastrous, and she knows better than to give herself away so easily. Her plan might not even work, but she has to take a chance right? Even if she has to face Umbrella on her own, she has to fight for Umbrella’s past victims and their future ones. 

 Erica knows that none of this is her responsibility; Raccoon City, Umbrella, etc. — they have nothing to do with her, and yet she’s going out of her way to involve herself in the situation. She doesn’t have to do anything for anyone, and yet she actively chooses to. Time and time again she has had this incessant need to save people, especially if she has the power to save them. Even if that means saving people from themselves, she feels like she has to do something . It’s not her responsibility to save people — and she knows that — but this time she feels like it is. Why else would Raccoon City need her? Why else would she be back here? Is she doing all of this for other people? Or is she doing it for herself? She doesn’t even know, honestly; she just has a feeling that this is what she’s supposed to do. It’s what she wants to do, oddly enough. Umbrella needs to be stopped, but she has to take it one step at a time — starting with this job.

  She groans at her thoughts and does a big stretch before she gets out of her comfortable bed and trudges towards her bathroom. She flicks on the light and winces from the brightness until her eyes adjust. Her gaze meets her reflection and she pokes out her lower lip at the sight of her messy hair and dark circles. ‘Whew. I look rough.’ She thinks, blowing a strand of stray hair out of her face.

 ‘Guess it’s time to start getting ready then.’

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
TIME: ┃9:50:08 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After taking one last glance in her rear view mirror to check her makeup, Erica exits her car and straightens her outfit. She’s dressed in a nice blouse, a pair of slacks, and some simple black heels while her hair is pulled into a cute updo. If she’s going to ace this interview, she’s got to dress to impress. She grabs a folder containing the necessary documents for the interview from the passenger seat and tucks it underneath her arm. Once she locks her vehicle, she makes her way up the entrance steps and inside the building where she walks up to the front desk.

 “Good morning. I’m here for my interview. Uh, under the name Erica Slater.” She says nervously.

 Kimberly welcomes her with a warm smile, “Good morning to you, too, Miss Slater! Give me just a moment and let me just find somebody who can direct you to the S.T.A.R.S. office, okay?” She turns around and starts searching for any S.T.A.R.S. members that may be hovering around in the lobby somewhere, and she just so happens to spot none other than Chris Redfield. She clears her throat and calls out his name, “Chris, can you come here for a second, please?”

 Chris turns around at the sound of his name and spots the source of the addressing. It was Kimberly the receptionist, and she’s attending to someone; a young blonde woman — or is it white hair? He can’t really tell. He heads in the two womens’ direction and when he closes in, his eyes make contact with the stranger standing on the opposite side of Kimberly’s desk. Woah . Who is this lovely lady? He hasn’t seen her around here before, but for some reason there’s a part of him that feels like he’s seen her from somewhere . He certainly would have remembered someone like her — she’s quite the catch. He ignores his thoughts, worried he might have been inside his head for too long.

 “What can I do for you?” He questions.

 “Will you take Miss Slater to the S.T.A.R.S. office for her interview?” Kimberly sweetly inquires, and Chris’s curiosity is even more piqued. ‘Interview? Since when was there supposed to be an interview? … Wait — ’ Suddenly, he remembers; Wesker had been blabbing recently about someone coming in for an interview, but Chris tuned him out before he could know what the interview was for. He still doesn’t know, but he hopes he’ll get to know sooner rather than later. He’d be lucky if he gets to work with someone as pretty as she is.  “Of course,” He says and looks at Erica. “I’ll be happy to lead the way.”

 The way Chris stares at Erica makes her heart flutter; she always thought he was so handsome. She used to reminisce about his warm brown eyes and his playful smile; they would make her legs turn to jello and make her stomach do a bunch of flips. After she went back to the real world she tried to forget him, but she would subconsciously search for his face among the crowds wherever she went. She tried to find him in any person that showed interest in her, but she couldn’t. She knows she had her chance with him in a past life — a past that only she remembers — but she can’t keep thinking about those things. She has to think about what’s happening now. That being said, she starts to follow behind Chris as he starts leading her in the direction of the S.T.A.R.S. office. 

 They ascend the stairs to the second floor and Chris glances at her. Why does she look so damn familiar? Even her last name sounds familiar. ‘ Slater …Where have I heard that before?’ He thinks, but his thoughts are interrupted by the familiar woman asking him something.

 “So, should I be afraid of my interviewer?”

 Erica has a feeling she already knows the answer to her question; chances are she’s going to be interviewed by Wesker. She secretly hopes it’s going to be Enrico Marini instead, the captain of Bravo Team, but considering how well Wesker dots his i’s and crosses his t’s she doubts it. She knows very well that he would take no risks of letting someone slip by him, so she should prepare herself with some casual chit chat before then.

 Chris smiles at the sound of her voice; it’s Southern and sweet — like drinking an ice-cold sweet tea on a hot afternoon. He chuckles at her question. “Oh, definitely. He’s kind of a hard-ass.”

 ‘ Of course he is .’ Erica muses to herself, tensing at the thought of being alone with said hard-ass. She’s afraid he might recognize her and afraid she might eat him. If she had to pick either option she would prefer the latter, even if the idea of consuming human flesh disgusts her to no end. “I think I’ll be okay,” She jokes, “I can work my way around a hard-ass.” 

 He smirks. “That kind of makes me feel like I should be more afraid of you.”

 The statement shouldn’t sting as much as it does, but she brushes it off as nothing. After all, it’s not like he knows she’s a monstrosity…at least, not anymore. “I’m the least of your worries.” She grins, and she feels a pang of irony in her chest. “I’m Erica — Erica Slater.”

 “Chris Redfield.” He replies, and a moment passes by before he clears his throat. His curiosity has been eating away at him, so he figures it won’t hurt to ask what’s on his mind. “Say, Erica. Have we met before?” 

 It feels like the air is ripped right out of Erica’s lungs when he asks her this. He’s not supposed to remember her, right? Does he know her? Does he really know who she is? Her intrusive thoughts make her want to say that they have met before, and that she regrets ever leaving him, but she knows if she does it could jeopardize what she’s trying to do. She doesn’t want to risk her plan getting foiled or risk his safety. She can’t tell him anything… at least not yet .  “Uh, no, I don’t think so.” She answers; the lie practically drips off of her tongue. “I think I’d remember a face like yours.” She doesn’t think anything about this statement, but Chris feels his stomach do a little flip after she says this. 

 A grin grows on his lips. “What makes you say that?”

 The words that left Erica’s mouth finally register and she feels her face heat up. Dammit. Why didn’t she think before she spoke? “Well, I mean, I was just — ” She stutters, and Chris laughs at her stumbling over her own words. He notices that the two of them have arrived in front of the S.T.A.R.S. office and he faces her. “You can hold that thought for later. We have arrived.” He gestures as he does a bow, “Let me go in and make sure Captain Wesker is ready for you.” 

 She sheepishly smiles, trying to hold back a giggle. “Thank you.”

 Chris enters the office and leaves Erica by herself. That was embarrassing. Why did she say that? It was so corny . She peers down the hallway as other employees and officers go to and from their designated places. Some walk past her, and she can hear them whispering when they pass by. It’s clear enough that she knows what they’re saying; ‘Who’s that?’ ‘She’s really pretty.’ ‘I like her hair. How do you think she got it that color?’ ‘Is that one of Chris’s new girlfriends?’ Erica brushes the statements off, and the whispers drown out the second the door to the S.T.A.R.S. office opens. Her eyes meet Wesker’s face — right into the dark void of his sunglasses. He recognizes her as the woman the receptionist had pointed out to him the other day.

 Now that he can see her up close, he can see that she’s a relatively attractive woman; rather voluptuous, too. Her hair is a distinct platinum blonde with a pale complexion to match, and her eyes are a striking hazel blue/green, complemented by what look like icy crystals. It’s as if her stare is made of frozen daggers, and it sends a chill up his spine and a tingle in his stomach. This should certainly be interesting. “How may I help you?” 

 His voice makes her feel a wave of nausea. The last time Erica encountered Wesker seems so long ago, but the sound of his voice is as clear now as it was then. The pit of her stomach rises and falls as she peers up at him. She can withstand this man; she can do this. She can do this. Erica's demeanor changes into a warm one with a friendly smile. “Good morning, I’m here for my 10 o'clock interview. You must be Captain Wesker.” Her southern voice is drenched in sugar, hoping it will hammer in the idea of a sweet image. She needs to make it fool proof; however, the overwhelming disgust she already feels is heightened when his name leaves her mouth. She wants to wash it out with soap just for saying it like that. Ugh .

 “Ah, you must be Erica Slater.” Wesker remarks, intrigued by her accent. She certainly doesn’t sound like she’s from around here…so why does he feel like he’s seen her before? 

 Erica secretly wishes the man in the sky would strike her down where she stands when Wesker says her name. Is there anything Wesker will do that she won’t have contempt for? 

 “Yes, sir.” She replies. Any second now she’ll get struck by lightning…or at the very least be blessed with a stroke.

 The tall, blonde man opens the door wider and allows for Erica to step inside the office. “Follow me.” He says, and as she enters behind him she feels all eyes on her. She doesn’t give herself the time to glance around the room to look at anyone; she simply focuses her attention on what she needs to do. She doesn’t need to worry about anyone or anything else in the room except Wesker and this interview — she can worry about everybody else later. She enters Wesker’s personal office and finds a spot in one of the seats opposite to his desk. He closes the door behind her, and a few of the S.T.A.R.S. members immediately start whispering amongst themselves.

 “Who is that ?” Forest Speyer, Bravo Team’s sharpshooter, whispers to Joseph Frost, Alpha Team’s technician, who’s sitting beside him. “Is that Wesker’s girlfriend or something?” 

 Joseph shrugs. “I don’t know. Ask Jill. She might know.” 

 Forest balls up a piece of paper before he tosses it at Jill who’s currently filling out some paperwork. “Hey, Jill!” He loudly whispers, tossing the paper in her direction. The balled up paper hits the back of Jill’s head, causing the brunette to turn around in confusion. “What is it?” She whispers back, irritated. 

 “Who’s the hottie ?” Forest whispers.

 Enrico clears his throat and cuts into Forest and Jill’s conversation. “If you had been listening to our meeting last week you would know that she’s interviewing to be our new secretary.” Other members in the room start to giggle and snicker after Enrico speaks. He had overheard Forest’s poor attempts at whispering, and since he was so curious Enrico thought it would be a good idea to enlighten him. 

 Forest mumbles under his breath, embarrassed. “ Same thing .”

 Once Wesker locates himself in his desk chair, he slides forward and starts glancing over Erica’s application again. “So…Miss Slater, tell me about yourself. What has your work experience been like?” He asks, lowering the paperwork as he raises his head to look at her. ‘Oh I’ll tell you all about myself when my fist is through your face .’ She thinks, but her intrusive thoughts are immediately interrupted by reprehensive ones. ‘Stay focused, Erica.’ She mentally tells herself; her body is hot with anger and anxiety, but her self assurance pushes her forward. “Well, I worked in retail for almost a year after I graduated highschool, and after that I was a receptionist at a local center in my hometown for six months before I moved states. I was out of work for two years before I started working at a local grocery store.”

 Her presence has him feeling on edge; she’s smiling, but it feels fake. Her approach is friendly, but her body language comes off as passive aggressive. She will look at him with innocence one moment and the next her eyes are filled with hidden disdain. Why does she confuse him so? It makes him curious; enamored by the bizarre woman before him.

 “ Hm .”

 ‘‘ Hm ’? What does ‘hm’ mean you insufferable prick?’ She wonders, clasping her fingers together as she waits for his feedback.

 “What do we need a secretary for?” Richard Aiken, Bravo Team’s communications expert, pipes up. Forest relaxes in his chair, “I don’t know, but I hope she gets hired.” He says as he tries to sneak a peek through the slats of Wesker’s office blinds. 

 “What for? So you can scare her away?” Brad Vickers, the computer expert and Alpha Team’s pilot, jokes from across the room. “ Ouch .” Barry Burton, another one of the older S.T.A.R.S. members and the weapons supervisor, remarks. “Oh hardy, har, har.” Forest scoffs. “Give me a break.” He mutters.

 “May I ask why there’s a gap in employment?” Wesker questions, placing Erica’s application onto the desk. Erica smiles, ready with an explanation up her sleeve. “I took a break to kickstart my own business selling artwork. I still do it in my free time, but it’s not as financially supportive as people think.” She explains, and from underneath his glasses he looks like he’s contemplating something. She secretly hopes that his contemplations will work in her favor.

 “Why do you want this position?”

 The inquiry hits her like a freight-train. She has many answers; ‘to kill you,’ ‘to stop you and who you work for,’ ‘to prevent the deaths of the S.T.A.R.S. members,’ etc, etc, etc. Obviously none of those answers will suffice. It has to sound trustworthy — like she’ll do anything to earn their trust and respect. “I want the opportunity to start working again and gain some more experience working a desk job.  I also want to help make things easier for you and my potential coworkers.” She responds.

 Behind those dark shades she knows they’re locking eyes, and she can’t tell if he can see right through her or vice versa. A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth. “I have to say; I was quite surprised that someone like you applied for this position — much less that anyone was going to apply,” He starts, “but what exactly makes you think you deserve the job?”

 Any other day Erica would have asked or stressed over what he meant by ‘someone like you,’ but she lets it slide in favor of his next question. Her answer is almost immediate this time; she doesn’t need to think about it in the slightest. “I don’t think I deserve it. I know I deserve it.” 

 The response causes a slight chuckle to slip past his lips. That’s a new one; more often than not, in Wesker’s experience interviewees would crumble at the very question. Instead, she didn’t so much as hesitate. She’s definitely amusing, that’s for sure. Perhaps he can use another form of entertainment. The S.T.A.R.S. members are only so bearable … 

 “Well, if that’s the case,” He stands from his seat and straightens himself before holding out a hand for her to shake, “then congratulations, Miss Slater.”

 Erica instantly rises to her feet. “Oh, wow, really?” She asks, but she swiftly corrects herself. “ I mean , thank you.” She grins and takes his hand into her own. He notices her strong grip, and he can’t help but take another long look at her. The more he stares at her and hears her voice — the more his deja vu starts to pull at him, begging him to quench his curiosity. “Pardon me for asking, but have we met before?”

 Erica is taken aback; the same thing happened with Chris before she went in for this interview. Does he remember her, too? Why are both of them experiencing a sense of deja vu? Does everyone else suffer the same kind of deja vu? Does that mean that their memories are still intact? She isn’t sure, but she decides to use the same answer she used before with Chris: “Hmmm, no, not that I know of.”

 Wesker was sure he thought he was imagining things, but why does this woman stick out to him? It frustrates him trying to figure her out, so he decides to brush it off for the time being. “I’m sure it must be my imagination, then.”

 “Brains do have a tendency to trick themselves.” She jokes nervously. While he finds this remark a little strange, Wesker doesn’t think it’s anything in particular to be concerned about. “ Right .” He slides open a drawer to pull out a punch card along with an employee issued parking garage card. He places them in the folder she brought in with her and hands them to her, “I expect to see you Monday at 8 AM, Miss Slater.” He says. 

 “Of course.” Erica gently takes the folder from him, surprised at how easy this was. 

 Wesker steps out from behind his desk and opens his office door to hold it open for her. “Do you need assistance getting back to the lobby?” 

 “Oh, no. It’s okay. I think I can find it on my own this time, thank you.” She sweetly says and makes her way out the S.T.A.R.S. office door. She can feel everybody’s eyes on her once more, but she ignores it as she closes the door behind her. She lets out a sigh of relief. Thank God that’s over …and that was the easy part. 

 Now it’s time for the hard part — working.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment building.
DATE: ┃December 20th, 1997 .
TIME: ┃6:36:18 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 The crinkle of plastic bags and the sound of footsteps echo through the stairwell as Erica makes her way up to her apartment. It’s quiet, and the sounds are all she focuses on as she ascends the building. Upon making it up another story, the seam of one of the bags fails and rips open, causing the items to fall onto the floor. Luckily for her, it’s a variety of items that aren’t food related. It’s just some bottles of acrylic paint. She sighs in irritation and kneels down to collect the items off the floor when she hears the sound of a door opening. She whips her head around to see Jill standing there. Jill notices that the woman’s groceries have spilt onto the floor, and she feels the need to help. Erica feels anxiety trickle up her spine as the woman starts to approach. ‘No, please go away, go away, go — ’

 “You need some help?” The brunette asks, and Erica is about to decline but she stops herself. It’s not like Jill is asking Erica to socialize with her — it’s just assistance with groceries. It’s cool. Erica looks up, “Yes, please.” She says with a smile, but on the inside she’s mentally slapping her forehead. ‘Oh, why can’t I ever say no?’ She thinks.

 Jill gently takes a few bags from Erica, reducing her work load by quite a bit. Erica can carry all of the items herself of course — she has superhuman strength after all — but the blood circulation to her fingers is being cut off by the plastic and it was getting pretty uncomfortable. After she gathers her things, she stands and starts resuming her journey back to her apartment. 

 Jill walks beside her as they ascend the stairs, and she can’t help but glance at Erica’s face; it’s like she’s seen it somewhere before. How long has she lived in Raccoon? It couldn’t have been long if they lived in the same building — Jill has been here for almost a year; she would have seen her by now. She saw her in the S.T.A.R.S. office the other day but she didn’t know if the other woman saw her, too.

 “I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but didn’t you recently interview for the S.T.A.R.S.’ receptionist position?” Jill questions, and Erica’s chest tightens at the question. She hoped Jill wouldn’t make small talk, but her hope was for nothing. ‘It’s okay, Erica. It’s just some casual conversation. You could talk to Chris just fine, how is this any different?’ She tells herself before she answers. “Oh, yes. Why do you ask?”

 “I thought you were familiar.” Jill nervously laughs. “I was working the day you interviewed at the department.”

 “Oh, haha.” Erica replies. She noticed Jill that day, but she didn’t have the time to notice for very long. “Well, it’s nice to have a familiar face to work with, right?” She chimes, and Jill grins. “Yeah.”

 As they ascend another set of stairs, Erica spots her apartment door. “Here I am.” She says, walking over to her door. “Give me one second.” She tells Jill before she starts digging through one of her pockets in search of her keys. Once she finds them, she shoves her house key into the keyhole and unlocks her door. “Alright.” She mumbles to herself as the door slowly slides open. She shoves it open with her foot and steps inside. After the door opens, Erica gestures to Jill over to the kitchen counter, “You can just set those bags on the counter there.”

 Jill steps inside and takes a look around. Erica’s apartment is extremely decorated, and Jill feels like she could spend hours on end staring at the decorations in the woman’s house; nice furniture, cool decor, and even one of the most recently released VCR models. She must have quite a bit of money — so why is she living in Raccoon City? In this apartment building mind you? “You have a really nice apartment.” Jill comments.

 “Oh, thank you.” Erica smiles, shoving grocery bags onto the counter. “I’ve tried to decorate it as much as I can without violating renter rules.” Jill laughs at the statement. “You did a great job.” She compliments before she holds out a hand for Erica to shake. She doesn’t want to overstay her welcome. “It was nice meeting you, Miss…?”

 Erica takes the other woman’s hand into her own and shakes it before letting it go. “Erica Slater. You?” She already knows Jill’s name, but she figures it’s a good idea to do introductions so she can at least make herself familiar to the other woman. 

 “Jill Valentine.” The brunette responds, and she lets go of Erica’s hand to step out of the apartment door. Before she departs, she turns and gives the white haired woman a smile. “I”m looking forward to working with you, Erica.”

 Erica’s heart skips a beat at the statement; she looks forward to working with Jill, too — excited, even. She hasn’t seen her in so long, and she misses the friendship they shared. Unfortunately, she probably won’t get that friendship back the way it used to be. She doesn’t want to lie to Jill or anyone else on the team about who she is — except for Wesker — but she knows she has to integrate herself into Raccoon City’s routine before she can decide to show her true intentions. It’s just going to take some time. 

 “You too.” Erica nods, offering an awkward smile. 

 Once Jill leaves, Erica shuts the door behind her and turns to her groceries. Time to put them away.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City, Missouri.
DATE: ┃December 22nd, 1997.
TIME: ┃5:13:49 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Erica’s first day on the job wasn’t as terrible as she initially thought it was going to be; her new colleagues welcomed her with open arms, gladly answering her if she had any questions. Some of them were a bit too enthusiastic to help her — mainly Forest, Joseph, and Chris, but she didn’t complain. They were a great help at getting her used to how things were around the office. She was able to get the hang of things pretty quickly and her shift went smoothly. Wesker gave her a few responsibilities to start, and he was surprised to see her finish them so early. He even went over her work to ensure everything was up to par, and he was satisfied with her efficiency. Alongside her smooth sailing shift, she’s grateful she managed to get through a whole day without getting any hunger pains and she was able to keep her unnatural abilities from distracting her from her job, much less expose her to her new coworkers and colleagues. It proved to her she can make it through the day, leaving her satisfied once she clocks out.

 After a long day at the police department, Erica eagerly heads towards the employee parking garage to get into her car, ready to get back home. It’s freezing today — even more so than usual — so she can’t wait to get to her apartment and slide underneath her warm covers. Just as she passes by the front desk, some positive news reaches her ears. She may or may not have just overheard Kimberly say that she and her husband are expecting. She smiles to herself as she remembers the heartbeat she heard the day she met Kimberly before walking down the hall and passing through a doorway. Huh. Who knew ? 

 She soon finds herself in the parking garage and locates her vehicle before she gets in. She starts the car and uses her pass to be able to pull out of the employee parking garage before heading in the direction of her apartment building. She taps her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the music on the radio, and as she does so she just so happens to notice what looks like a young girl walking down the street. 

 Erica doesn’t think anything of it at first, believing she should keep driving and mind her business, but as she draws closer there’s a twinge of empathy that tells her to stop. It is freezing outside after all. She presses her foot against the break and starts to slow down, rolling down the passenger side window as the vehicle comes to a halt. She leans closer to the window so she can call out to the girl. 

 “Hey! Do you need a ride?”

 The girl stops and turns to her, and once Erica catches a glimpse of the girl’s face she realizes who this is. It’s Sherry Birkin, the daughter of William and Annette Birkin. William Birkin is one of Umbrella’s most valued researchers, and he also played a hand in Erica’s demise. Both he and Wesker subjected her to horrible experiments and sent her to an early grave; and now the off-spring of one of those perpetrators is right in front of her. Sherry is shaking, and her lower lip is trembling from the cold. It’s obvious that the walk through the snow is taking its toll on her. “I’m not supposed to take rides from strangers.” Sherry says, maintaining her distance. She doesn’t know what this woman might do to her and she doesn’t want to risk finding out, but as she takes a good look at the stranger the woman doesn’t come across as threatening. She actually looks kind of nice.

 Erica can hear the girl’s heartbeat picking up, making her believe she’s scaring the girl. She doesn’t want to frighten Sherry — she genuinely just wants to give her a ride. Maybe she should give Sherry her name and place of work so the poor thing doesn’t feel so terrified. “My name’s Erica Slater, and I work at the Raccoon City Police Department for the S.T.A.R.S. division. You can tell your parents to call them and ask if you’d like.” She states, “That way we’re not strangers.” 

 Sherry stands there frozen, and not just because of the cold. She would very much like a ride. She is turning into a human popsicle after all, but she’s still hesitant. She can’t just get into a car with somebody she doesn’t know, even if said person told her their name. She knows better, and her parents would be disappointed in her to know she did such a thing. 

 “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just saw you walking, and I didn’t want to see you freeze out here.” Erica adds, and the empathetic statement causes Sherry to reconsider. It’s not like her parents will know she got a ride from a stranger — they hardly ever notice when she’s home half the time anyways. Plus, this woman doesn't seem like she’d be a threat. She stopped for a stranger and offered a free ride home, so she can’t be that bad right? Sherry decides to step forward and reach for the door handle, causing Erica to unlock the car doors and allow the young girl inside. She opens the car door and slides into the seat, closing the door behind her before Erica presses the button to roll up the window. Sherry relaxes into the passenger’s seat as a wave of hot air falls over her body, saving her from the bitter cold outside. She sighs in relief as she begins to heat up.

 “Buckle up, please ma’am.” The older woman smiles, and Sherry does as she’s asked. “What’s your name?” Erica questions, lifting her foot off the break to pull away. “Sherry Birkin.” The girl quietly says. 

 “Are you good at giving directions, Sherry?” 

 Sherry nods. “Yes ma’am, I’m the best .”

 A laugh slips past Erica’s lips at the remark, “Alright. Tell me the way, little lady.”

 The two set off towards the little girl’s home per her instructions, and at some point during the quiet car ride Erica glances over to Sherry. The girl is staring out the window with an empty expression, and she’s clutching what looks like a book in her lap. She looks so tense and… sad . Erica is silent for a moment, trying to think of what to say before she speaks up.

 “So, what were you doing walking home?” She asks, hopefully generating conversation. “It’s pretty cold out.” 

 Sherry shrugs, not breaking her attention away from the window. “I guess my mom forgot to pick me up.” That was a lie; her mom didn’t forget — she actually skipped the bus today. Today was the last day of school and the first day of winter break, and she wanted to take a nice walk through town to see all the Christmas decorations before she went home to an empty house filled with no decorations. Her house doesn’t even have a Christmas tree. It’s not like she hasn’t walked home from school before, but it’s obvious to her now that picking today to do it probably wasn’t the best idea… 

 Sensing a bit of awkward tension, Erica searches for a way to change the subject. Bringing her attention back to the book in the girl’s lap, she addresses it. “What’s that you got there?”

 Sherry pulls her book close at the mention of it. “It’s nothing…” She murmurs, “...just some stupid drawings.”

 Erica frowns, bothered by the girl’s statement. “You know,” She starts, “I used to say the same thing about my art, but I realized that even if I might not like it, there will always be somebody else that will.” She explains. “And I had to remind myself that at the end of the day if it makes me happy, that’s all that matters.”

 Erica’s words linger with Sherry; she’s never heard anybody say that to her before. Most people don’t even make a passing glance at her creative hobby — not even her own parents — so the remark surprises her. Although a surprise, it’s nice to hear something new for a change. This makes Sherry start to consider showing the young woman some of her own artwork.

 “Would you like to see some?” She nervously asks.

 “Of course.” Erica replies, “When we park you can show me, okay? I don’t wanna keep you too long. I’m sure your parents are worried sick about you.” 

 “Oh, okay…” Sherry turns to stare out the window. She murmurs something, and if not for her sensitive hearing Erica wouldn’t have heard it as clear as day. “Trust me, they aren’t worried…”

 A concerned look spreads across Erica’s face, and she tries to ignore the sad comment as the two enter a nice suburban neighborhood. Every house looks practically the same…and here Erica thought her own neighborhood back home was just copy and pastes of one another. She manages to locate the house number Sherry told her, and she pulls in to park in the driveway. Once she parks, she turns over to Sherry. “Alright. We’re here.” 

 Sherry tries stalling, but as she glances up at the face of her house she understands that now is the time for her to go home. Before she goes, she slides Erica her sketchbook; she’s prepared to hear all kinds of criticism before she heads inside. However, as Erica’s eyes search through the pages of her sketchbook, Sherry is met with the opposite of what critique she expected.

 “These are awesome , Sherry. You’re incredibly talented.” Erica praises, and Sherry is dumbfounded. Does she really like her drawings? Does she really like her art? “ Really ?” She questions.

 “Yes! You have a fantastic skill.” Erica reaffirms. A big, appreciative smile grows on Sherry’s lips, “Thank you, Mrs. Slater.”

 “Oh, it’s just Miss Slater, honey, but I would prefer it if you called me Erica.” Erica laughs as she hands the sketchbook back to Sherry, and Sherry nods. “Okay, Miss Erica.” She giggles, “Will I be able to see your artwork one day?”

 “If we happen to run into each other again, then of course.” Erica winks as she unlocks the door for her to get out, and the young girl’s smile falters a little. ‘Yeah…’ She thinks. ‘... if we run into each other.’ A somber feeling overtakes her, saddened by the realization that this was probably just a miracle meeting. She probably won’t see Erica ever again. “Thanks for the ride.” Sherry thanks Erica before unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the passenger side door. After she steps out of the car, Sherry closes the door behind her and heads up the walkway to her front door. Just as she steps onto the door mat, an idea pops into her head and a wide grin spreads across her lips. She excitedly enters the house, eager to set her idea in motion.

 As soon as she sees Sherry enter the front door of the house and close it behind her, Erica starts backing out of the Birkins’ driveway. After pulling out and turning back towards the entrance of the neighborhood, she relaxes back in her seat and sighs. ‘Sherry seems like a good kid…’ She glances in the rear view mirror as the house fades away from her sight. A faint smile lingers on her lips. That positive interaction gives her some hope that she’s going to be just fine.

 ‘...Maybe Raccoon City won’t be so bad this time around.’

⋆

LOCATION: ┃███.
PLACE: ┃█ ███, ████.
TIME: ┃█:██:██ ██.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 The smell of old books and wood fills Erica’s nostrils, and the sound of a fire crackling and snapping tickles her ears, causing her eyes to open. She stares up at the ceiling to see intricate designs dancing across a wooden canvas, complimented by a chandelier with a dim glow. Her brows furrow in confusion. Where is she? She sits up from her spot on a luxurious looking rug, and she starts observing the rest of the room. There’s an extravagant fireplace to the left of her with a mantle adorned with fancy trinkets and antiques. There are bookshelves filled to the brim on the opposite sides of the fireplace, the windows are covered with fancy blackout curtains, and fine leather furniture decorates the room. There’s a large grandfather clock near the door, and its tics echo loudly across the room. When she turns around, she spots an old man sitting at a desk, quietly writing away. He doesn’t notice her at first, but when she stands he raises his head to look at her.

 “Ah, I was wondering when you would wake up.” He states before he looks back down to continue writing. He obviously doesn’t seem too concerned that a stranger is in his home, and she surmises this must be because they’re dreaming — and he must know it, too — but whose dream is this? She shifts her attention elsewhere and eyes a painting on one of the far walls, and a lump forms in her throat. The painting is a portrait of the same old man sitting at the desk. She recognizes the portrait as that of Oswell Spencer, one of the Umbrella Corporation’s original founders. The revelation makes her stomach clench and her heartbeat quicken; this is the man responsible for all the suffering inflicted by Umbrella. This is the man truly responsible for her suffering — for he is the ringmaster of Umbrella’s crimes and the catalyst for this world’s impending war against biological warfare. He’s the one that started this all. He is Umbrella’s only surviving founder.

 “You’re Oswell Spencer…” Erica whispers, staring in disbelief.

 Oswell stops writing and glances up at her. This strange woman appeared on his floor unconscious in the middle of his study, and she has the gall to address him by his full name like she’s his mother. When he first noticed her he called for someone to retrieve her, but no one came. He assumed he must have been dreaming since he knew that would never happen — especially in his own home — and he decided to wait until she woke up to ask questions. Why is she here? Why is she in his dream? Now that she’s awake she claims to know his name and clearly recognizes him, but why is that? How does she know his name? How is it that she recognizes him? He doesn’t know her, and he’s never seen her before. As a matter of fact, now that he gets a good look at her her appearance is nothing like he’s ever seen. Her hair is the whitest blonde his aged eyes have ever laid their gaze upon, and the way her eyes glow is… inhuman . It intrigues him, and from the shocked expression on her face she may or may not know who he truly is, further spurring his fascination. “That is my name, young lady , but who might you be?”

 She frowns at his emphasis on ‘young lady.’ She refuses to elaborate on who she is, believing it could be a hassle for her later. “You don’t need to know who this ‘ young lady ’ is.” She retorts.

 He places his fountain pen down onto his desk and gives her his full attention. “I don’t believe it’s fair that you know who I am, yet I don’t know you.” 

 The side of her mouth twitches in amusement; as if she’d tell him. “Just because you ‘don’t believe it’s fair to you’ doesn’t mean I’m going to give you what you want.” She quotes him with air quotes to mock him. “Life’s not fair.”

 The elderly man sighs in frustration and leans back in his seat. “Well, at the very least you can explain to me what you’re doing here. A man’s dream is a sacred place, you know.”

 Erica glares at him. “ No one’s dreams are sacred. Don’t you dare think for a minute that you’re exempt, old man .”

 A sneer grows on his lips. “Why are you so hostile towards me, child ? Didn’t your mother teach you to respect your elders?”

 “Why are you pretending as if you don’t know the answer to that? You son of a — ” She snaps, but she pauses before she can say anything else. Although a fire rages in her chest, she has to stop herself from letting her emotions get the better of her — she might accidentally let something slip. “Nevermind,” She huffs, “I don’t know why I’m here…only you can tell me why.”

 Confusion immediately spreads across Oswell’s wrinkled features. “What do you mean?”

 Erica sighs dramatically, irritated by him and his presence. She isn’t entirely sure how it works herself, but somehow she’s able to communicate with people through dreams. It doesn’t matter whether the ‘people’ are living, dead — or in this case — fictional. These kinds of dreams usually lead to some kind of glimpse into the future or stand as a metaphor for something in Erica’s life and the people around her, but she doesn’t need to tell him any of that; he doesn’t need to know more than what she tells him. After all, if she tells him too much he might potentially use her information against her. “I don’t know how to explain it to you without it sounding ridiculous or a downright lie, but sometimes when I dream I go places. Those places can be other people’s dreams, and I never know why I’m there — only the people whose dreams I inhabit can tell me why.”

 He eyes her as she stands behind his desk, waiting for his response or at least a reaction from him. This young woman is able to appear in his dream, but how is that so? It’s not possible for the human brain to dream of a face it has never seen; it doesn’t have the ability to conjure a face out of thin air. He can understand why she dreams of him — she recognizes him — but why does he dream of her? She claims she doesn’t know, but he feels as if she knows more than she lets on. This furthers his interest, and he leans forward to place his elbows on the edge of his desk. “Hypothetically, let’s say I believe you.” He says, “What do you think the reason for you being here is?”

 Erica holds eye contact with him for a while as the sounds of the ticking clock and burning fire harmonize in the background. What reason would she be here for? She starts to theorize, and she ultimately surmises that it could be a warning of some sort. Could it be a warning towards him? Could it represent Umbrella’s impending downfall? If Erica kills him, that would make the end of Umbrella much easier. Even if he happens to meet his fate later in life at the hands of his very own pupil, his death would save so many innocent lives — all for the price of one sick elderly man. Or…could she be the one who’s being warned? Is it possible she could end up in Umbrella’s custody again? Could it mean that he might end up finding out who , and more importantly, what she is? 

 Among her jumbled thoughts a murmur slips past her lips, speaking the only thing she can think of that makes sense. “I think one of us is being warned.”

 Oswell raises a brow and scoffs. “Why would I be warned?”

 ‘This pretentious little asshole!’ She thinks. “Why would I be?” Erica questions, burning her gaze into his skull. “You don’t seem like much of a threat.”

 The old man watches her, observing her hateful stare with a slight smirk. “Neither do you.” He remarks before clicking his tongue. “You seem like you want to hurt me, but it wouldn’t be wise. ”

 “Oh, I actually don’t want to.” Erica feels her stomach rumble with hunger and her chest tighten with anger, “I’m more of a pacifist myself, but it would make a great payoff.”

 “Might I remind you, young lady, if you are aware of who I am…” He chuckles darkly, entertained by this amusing woman, “...then you must know what I’m capable of.”

 She leans forward and lowers her face to meet with his, expressing a sinister grin of her own. Her eyes begin to glow brighter, “But you don’t know what I’m capable of.”

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Spencer Estate.
DATE: ┃December 26th, 1997.
TIME: ┃1:43:16 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Oswell shoots up from his desk, and he frantically searches around the room for the strange woman. He realizes he’s awake once he notices she’s gone, and his fright is instantly noticed by Sergei Vladimir, his close friend and commander of Umbrella’s paramilitary service, the U.B.C.S. (Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service). The monster of a man makes his way over to Oswell and a concerned look befalls his hardened features. A strand of his silver hair dangles over one of his eyes — an eye that is scarred closed. “Lord Spencer, are you alright?”

 Oswell waves him and his close friend’s concerns away as his old, pounding heart steadies. “I’m fine, I…” He pauses, trying to collect his thoughts. Was that real? Did that woman really enter his dream? No, it was just a dream; there’s no way something like that could be possible. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to dream of a complete and total stranger, either, but he chalks it up to be a simple nightmare. “...I had a nightmare.” It’s been a long time since he’s uttered those words. After all, why would a man like him have nightmares?

 Sergei places a hand on his shoulder, and he squeezes it to express his worry. “If you can be bothered, it must not have been any ordinary nightmare.”

 Oswell chuckles and places his hand over Sergei’s before patting it in reassurance. “You know me well, old friend, but I assure you, it’s nothing…”

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
TIME: ┃8:58:37 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s the following morning, and Erica groans with a stretch as the sunlight from her living room window shines down onto her face. She blinks her eyes open before rubbing the remaining sleep from them. She looks around the room and realizes she must have fallen asleep on the couch last night. No wonder she slept so terribly. As she lies there, she recalls the nightmare she had during the night; why did she dream of Oswell Spencer? Does this mean that something might potentially happen to her again? Does she need to look over her shoulder from now on? She pouts at the thought, and she rises from her spot. She sits there for a moment before she ponders what she should do today. She doesn’t have much to do, but as she continues to wonder an idea pops into her head. She should probably go check the mail — she hasn’t exactly checked it since she moved in. Oops .

 After throwing on some presentable clothes and a comfortable pair of shoes, she heads down the stairs to the lobby. She walks up to her apartment number’s P.O. box, puts in the key, unlocks it, and pulls it open. To her surprise, she has one piece of mail. She pulls it out and examines the envelope.  Her name and address is listed on the front, but what is also listed are the names and address of Annette and William Birkin. She immediately fears the worst; why does she have mail from William and Annette Birkin? Do they know who she is? Are they on to her? Are they sending her this letter to warn her of what’s to come? She’ll only find out if she reads it. She closes her mailbox hatch, relocking it and heading back upstairs. Once she’s safe inside her apartment, she inhales and opens the envelope. 

⋆

  Dear Miss Erica Slater,

 A few days ago our daughter Sherry explained to us that you took her home and gave us the information you provided her. We appreciate what you have done for her, but due to this it appears Sherry has taken a liking to you, and she has specifically asked for you to be her babysitter. Her persistence on the matter has led us to relent, and seeing as you are already aware of where we live and are currently employed at the RPD in the S.T.A.R.S. division, we feel comfortable asking if you would fulfill Sherry’s request. We would be generously paying you $100 a night each time you are available.

 If you happen to be worried about this offer interfering with your job, we have arranged for Sherry to wait at the RPD until you can clock out of work on days you happen to be scheduled. This will not affect payment.

 Please respond to this letter as soon as possible, as we will take no response as a sign of decline. 

Sincerely,

Annette Birkin and William Birkin

⋆

 The details of the letter make Erica think for a moment. This is so… unexpected . It’s also pretty strange that the Birkins would be so willing to hire someone without so much as knowing her. Erica didn’t think Sherry would take such an interest in her — so much so she practically begged her parents to let the young woman look after her. As she considers the offer, she wonders what she can get out of it. Could Erica use this babysitting job as a cover up? Babysitting for the Birkins seems so inconspicuous and it would put her in good standings with the Birkin family, so it couldn’t hurt…right? Part of her feels like she would be using Sherry as a pawn, and she doesn’t want to do that. However, the other part of her understands that babysitting and getting close to Sherry would allow her to get close to William and Annette, and more importantly, allow her to find a way to stop the destruction of Raccoon City. Considering both of Sherry’s parents work for Umbrella and are essentially the whole cause of the city’s outbreak, it would be a smart decision to accept the offer. Maybe she can stop them this way, and nobody has to get hurt.

 She rereads the letter over and over before she decides that she’ll do it; she’ll accept their offer. She quickly heads into her room, off to find some paper and a pen to respond.

Chapter Text

LOCATION:  ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE:  ┃January 2nd, 1998.
TIME:  ┃5:01:58 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s the end of Erica’s shift, and she’s currently gathering her things to place inside her purse. She grabs her keys off the surface of her desk, and they clink together as she clutches them in her hand. After sliding the strap of her bag over her shoulder, she starts heading towards the door to leave. She stops herself, pausing the action in favor of stepping towards Wesker’s office. She peers in and notices that he’s focused on something on his computer, and she gently knocks on the doorway. He shifts his attention in her direction, “Yes, Miss Slater?”

 “I’m heading out.” She gives a straight smile, gesturing towards the office door with her thumb, and he studies her. For the past two weeks, the face of this woman has been burned into his mind. He swears that each glance or gesture she expresses he has seen this woman before. From the way she looks at him, to the way her voice sounds, to the way she interacts with him — everything she does reminds him of someone . He can’t understand why he believes he’s seen her and even now, like the many times before, he decides to brush it off and nods before turning back to the screen. “Alright.” 

 The dry response causes her to purses her lips, and she turns to leave out the door. As her heels click and clack down the hallway, she wonders why Wesker always stares at her like that — like he’s trying to figure her out. It bothers her, making her worry if he knows who she is or not. There’s no way he could, but if both he and Chris somehow recognize her could it be possible? 

 Before she can start to entertain her pessimistic notions she steps into the lobby and spots Sherry from across the room, patiently waiting for her. The 11 year old girl is sitting in one of the waiting chairs, kicking her feet as she looks around. Erica is taken aback by this; don’t Sherry’s parents want to meet Erica before they trust her with their daughter? Why did they just drop her off? They mentioned letting her wait at the department after school, but she didn’t think it would be so sudden. This makes her feel a twinge of concern, and she starts walking over. Once the little girl’s eyes land on Erica, she’s quick to stand. Overcome with excitement, she rushes over to the young woman. 

 “Miss Erica!”

 A smile graces Erica’s lips when the girl runs up to her; the child's mannerisms and enthusiasm makes her feel a sense of joy. It’s nice to have someone excited to see you. “Hi, Sherry. How long have you been waiting?” She asks. Sherry doesn’t hesitate with her answer, beaming up at her with a grin. “Just a couple of hours. I didn’t  have any homework so I just drew a little to keep me busy.”

 “ A couple of hours ?” Erica’s eyes widen at the statement. “Have you been here since you got out of school?”

 Sherry quickly realizes what she said and jumps to her parents’ defense, waving her hands dismissively. “Yeah, but don’t worry! Mommy and Daddy said it was okay.”

 Erica frowns. “Okay…” She murmurs, reluctantly disregarding their blatant negligence for now and reminding herself that Sherry’s in her custody now. She’ll get all the attention she needs and rightfully deserves. “Well, come on then. Let’s get going.” 

 The ecstatic girl nods her head, and the two start walking towards the parking garage. Sherry has a skip in her step, something that Erica takes notice of. “How was school today?” She questions, curious to know how the girl’s day went.

 “Oh, it was okay.” Sherry shrugs, silent as they travel through the department and to the dark parking garage below. “How was work?” She asks, her voice echoing through the garage. “ Work . Boring stuff.” Erica jokes.

 Sherry gives Erica a look. “It can’t be as boring as school .” 

 Erica grins, “Trust me. It’s worse .” She says before closing the door behind the girl. She walks over to the driver’s side, opens the door, and gets inside. She closes the door behind herself and places her purse in the backseat behind Sherry. She then puts the key into the ignition and starts the engine. “How do you feel about pizza for supper?”

 Sherry instantly perks up at the mention of pizza. Her parents rarely ever order pizza, so she doesn’t want to pass up the chance of having the combo of bread, tomato sauce, and cheese. She’s eager but also curious as to what kind of pizza her babysitter has in mind. “What kind of pizza?”

 “Well, I was thinking of a pepperoni for you and a meat lovers’ for me. What do you think?” Erica puts her seatbelt on after the question slips past her lips. She glances over at Sherry before advising her to do the same thing. “Seatbelts, please.” She says, and Sherry promptly buckles her seatbelt before she responds about the pizza. “Can I get cheese instead of pepperoni?”

 Erica smiles. “Sure thing.”

 “ Yesss! ” Sherry excitedly remarks as they pull out of the parking garage, causing a laugh to leave Erica’s lips. ‘This babysitting thing should be a piece of cake.’ She thinks to herself.

⋆

LOCATION:  ┃Birkin Residence.
TIME:  ┃10:49:12 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Later on that night, Erica is sitting on the couch in the Birkin’s living room. She’s flipping through channels on the television, and she has been for the past two hours after she put Sherry to bed. After they ordered and picked up a couple of pizzas, they returned to the Birkin residence and decided to draw and watch a movie. Sherry passed out around 8:30, and since then Erica’s been all alone — surfing through different channels in hopes she’ll find something to entertain herself with. She considered snooping around the house, but she isn’t entirely sure if there are hidden cameras or not. She doesn’t even know if Umbrella is listening in on the house or not, either, and she doesn’t want to risk exposing herself. So far she hasn’t had the impression that she’s being watched, but she isn’t given enough time to think about it more when the sound of keys being put in through a keyhole removes her from her thoughts. She turns the television off and straightens her clothes as she stands. She quickly steps from around the couch, meeting the face of Annette Birkin as she passes through the front doorway.

 Erica approaches to hold out her hand, “You must be Mrs. Annette Birkin.” 

 Annette glances at her with what looks like confusion before taking her hand into her own and shaking it firmly. She’s been so busy at the labs she almost forgot she hired a babysitter for a second. She nods before letting go of her hand, “Yes, yes, Miss Slater. Is Sherry asleep?” 

 Erica clasps her fingers together once she retracts her hand from the other woman. “Oh, yes, ma’am. She fell asleep over two hours ago.” After hearing this information, Annette nods and waves her hand dismissively. “Thank you. You’re free to go home now. My husband should be inside any moment to pay you.”

 The response causes Erica to start walking over to the kitchen counter to collect her things. It was a short exchange, and she's happy that it was. She likes it short and simple; it makes things less complicated than they have to be. As she’s standing there putting her stuff together, she can hear two people approaching the home’s entrance behind her. Wait, didn’t Annette say only her husband was supposed to be coming? Why does she hear someone else?

 “Miss Slater?”

 Erica feels a rush of anxiety shoot down her spine, and she turns around to see Wesker who’s ogling her with what she can only assume is a look of confusion. It’s hard to tell sometimes.

 ‘What is she doing here?’ Wesker ponders, eyeing the woman in front of him. It’s not as if he doesn’t want her to not be here, but he finds it odd to run into her at this time and place of all things. He never would have thought he would run into one of his S.T.A.R.S. subordinates after work, much less at the Birkins’ residence. What exactly is her reasoning for being here? What does she have to do with William and Annette?

 Erica looks at him in surprise and annoyance; what is he doing here? Shouldn’t he be busy committing crimes against humanity somewhere else? Or is he stalking her now? It’s not like she shouldn’t have expected him to show up here at some point; he and William work together so it would only make sense they would carry their work into after hours, including to William’s own home. She knows she should get used to seeing more of him if she’s going to follow through with her plan, but looking at Wesker at work always leaves a sour taste in her mouth. Even now looking at him has the exact same effect, and Erica gives an awkward smile. “Captain Wesker… hi .”

 “Hello…” He replies. 

 Before he can question what she’s doing there, William steps into the room and closes the front door behind him. His eyes make contact with Erica and he pauses for a second before he holds out a hand for her to shake. 

 “I take it you’re Sherry’s new babysitter?” 

 She promptly shakes his hand, “Yes, sir. I am.” She replies.

 Wesker raises a brow at the exchange. “Babysitter?”

 “Yes, sir.” Erica responds to Wesker as she withdrawals her hand from William. She glances between the two of them and grabs her keys from the counter while sliding her bag’s strap over her shoulder. “Well, I’ll hurry up and get out of your hair.” She walks around them and grips her car keys in the palm of her hand. She’s only a few feet from the door when William addresses her, “Miss Slater, I think you’re forgetting something.” 

 She turns around, confused as to what he might mean. What is she forgetting exactly? She thought she had everything, so what’s missing? Is it something else? Is he on to her? Is this the moment she’s exposed for what she is? 

 Noticing her confusion, William holds up a small wad of cash. “Your payment?”

 “Oh…” Erica walks back over and gently takes it from him, sheepishly smiling as her anxieties quickly fade away as fast as they arrived. “Thank you.” She says, snatching another glimpse at Wesker who’s still staring her down. “You gentlemen have a nice night.” She adds as she looks back at William.

 “You too.” Wesker says, and she exits the front door, closing it behind her.

 As soon as she’s out the door, Wesker turns to William. “What exactly made you hire a babysitter?” 

 William starts inspecting one of the pizza boxes, hoping there’s some leftover pizza. He doesn’t usually eat this stuff, but every once in a while he likes to indulge himself if he’s working late in the labs. He sighs when he realizes his only option is cheese. Damn . Oh well. When he registers what Wesker just asked him, he chuckles a little. “Sherry wouldn’t stop pestering us about her.”

 Wesker is even more dumbfounded now. That didn’t answer much. How did Sherry come to know about Erica? Why was she so intent on having her hired as her babysitter? “How so?” He folds his arms, expecting William to elaborate more.

 “Sherry said Erica saw her walking home from school and offered her a ride. I questioned Sherry why she took a ride from a stranger of all things, and she told me Erica told her she works at the RPD in the S.T.A.R.S. division. I called the front desk to check if she was employed there, and lo and behold she happens to work under you.” William explains, pulling out a plate from the cabinet. “I knew if she was under your authority I wouldn’t have anything to worry about, and she seems nice enough.” He gives Wesker a sly grin as he places the plate onto the counter, “Not a bad looker, either.”

 Wesker listens intently to his colleague’s explanation. So Erica offers Sherry a ride out of the kindness of her heart, and miraculously Sherry takes a liking to her? He’s not exactly surprised; he’s noticed how Erica interacts with everyone at the office. She’s sweet and bubbly, happy to do her duties or help someone else fulfill theirs and more. She’s never like that towards him, but it’s admirable to see her so devoted and obedient. He secretly feels like there’s more to her than that, believing that there’s no way someone can be that kind and generous without a deep secret hanging over their head. Sometimes he catches her watching him — as if she’s observing him or keeping her distance. It’s odd but so far he hasn’t gotten any sign of malice or alternative motives from her. The only strange occurrence is his deja vu, and he starts to wonder if William might feel this sense of deja vu as well. It wouldn’t kill to ask. “Is there anything about her that stands out to you?” He implores, and William turns around just as he finishes putting the pizza in the microwave.

 “You mean her massive — ” He gestures towards his chest, and Wesker deadpans, interrupting William before he can continue. “You know that is not what I mean — ”

 “ Oh …” William lowers his hands. “Sorry.” He clears his throat. “Now that you mention it, she did look like she was afraid for a moment when I offered her payment. It was like she was expecting something else.”

 Wesker sighs, “I’m not talking about that, either, but you do make a good point.” 

 William genuinely does make a good point; he didn’t even meet the young woman until tonight — so why did she appear to be afraid of him? Has she met him before, or at the very least, heard of him? He decides to hold that thought for later, instead deciding to get back to his original point. “Does she look familiar to you?”

 “No, not really. I think I’d remember her if I saw her. She’s pretty hard not to notice, Al.” William takes his pizza out of the microwave, “Why do you ask?”

 “I have a strange sense of deja vu whenever she’s around. It’s as if I’ve seen her before, but I don’t know where or why .” Wesker sighs, “It’s been eating at me…”

“Never thought I’d see Albert Wesker let someone get under his skin.” William snickers, taking a bite out of one of his slices of pizza. ‘ Eh . It’s not fresh, but it’s still good.’ He thinks as he chews.

 “I didn’t say that.” Wesker retorts, and William shakes his head before he offers a suggestion with his mouth still half full. “Have you looked into her background? Maybe see what skeletons are lurking in her closet? I thought you would’ve done that when you hired her.”

 Wesker hums in thought, “Perhaps I should.” 

 “Great.” William says, walking around the counter and towards the staircase. He’s ready to complete these data sheets already so he can go to sleep. “Should we head to my office now?”

 “ By all means .” Wesker nods.

⋆

LOCATION:  ┃Birkin Residence.
DATE:  ┃January 5th, 1998.
TIME:  ┃7:45:29 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s a calm and quiet evening; citizens are relaxing in their homes, spending time with their families, or even returning home from a long shift at work. A warm fire is burning in the fireplace of the Birkins’ home, heating Erica and Sherry up as the two are making hot chocolate together. The little girl is eagerly waiting for her warm drink, ready to have a sip of chocolatey goodness.  Just as Erica is finished pouring Sherry’s mug of hot milk, however, her stomach growls loudly. The two of them look at each other before they burst out laughing. 

 “Sounds like I need more than some hot cocoa.” Erica jokes, which prompts another giggle from Sherry. Erica finishes Sherry’s drink by ripping open a small pouch and pouring in a powder, mixing it until the drink turns from white to brown. She then adds some marshmallows she picked up at the store earlier before sliding it over to the girl. Once Sherry has her drink, Erica pours her own mug of hot milk and mixes her cocoa mix before she steps towards the refrigerator. She opens it and grabs a container that contains some kind of substance Sherry can’t make out before taking out a small piece and eating it. When Erica closes the container and places it back in the fridge the young girl can’t help but ask a question. 

 “What’s that?”

 Erica doesn’t say anything at first, anxiety traveling from her head to her toes at the question. She ignores it, instead choosing to respond as if the little girl was referring to something else as she reaches for her mug. “It’s hot chocolate, silly.” She mumbles before swallowing. She shudders and takes a sip of hot chocolate to wash it down.

 Sherry makes a face. She knows better than to believe that; Erica absolutely knows what Sherry is talking about. “No, I mean in the container. What is that?” She casually takes a sip from her mug as she waits for Erica to answer.

 The older woman goes silent again, quiet until she speaks something that would hopefully turn Sherry’s interest away. “You wouldn’t like it.”

 Sherry purses her lips. “I didn’t ask that — I asked what it was , silly.”

 Both of them stare at each other after this, waiting for the other to answer. How can Erica explain this without freaking Sherry out? Why did she even pull it out in front of her anyways? She mentally scolds herself, but she reminds herself that a child’s curiosity can’t help it. Plus, it’s either Sherry asks questions or Erica’s hunger becomes a problem. The choice is pretty obvious. Erica clears her throat, sucking in an anxious breath. “Well…it’s a, uh, kind of food that I eat for health reasons.”

 Sherry sips from her mug, curious as to what this type of food is. It looked disgusting, so how could it be healthy for you? “What kind of food is it?”

 Erica swallows nervously. “Well…it’s kind of like a pudding but it’s made from pig’s blood. In some places it’s called Pork Blood Curd or Blood Jelly.” She watches Sherry, apprehensive about this entire conversation. 

 Immediately the girl scrunches her face up in disgust, grossed out by the information she just learned. Blood jelly? That sounds nasty . It makes her feel sick just thinking about it. Is it really made from pig’s blood? If so, why would Erica eat something like that? 

 “Ewww…” She covers her mouth, “That’s gross.” She comments, and it ignites a laugh from Erica. “I think it’s gross, too.” 

 “Well then why do you eat it?” Sherry questions, searching Erica’s eyes. What does Erica say? What is she supposed to say? How does she explain the odd choice of food? She doesn’t want to tell Sherry confidential information about herself and risk the little girl questioning her parents. It’s not like she would intentionally be putting Erica into danger, but when a kid is curious sometimes things will slip out. “I uh…” She draws out, trying to come up with a believable excuse that won’t cause concern. “I have a really rare medical condition. My body has to rely on a different form of protein than everybody else, and this stuff has the protein I need. I can still eat regular food, but from time to time I have to eat this so I don’t feel sick.” The lie is somewhat truthful; she does have a rare medical condition, and she does have to eat certain proteins in order to prevent feeling sick — both of these being “bioweapon” and “flesh and blood” respectively.

 “Oh, okay.” Sherry responds.

 “Yeah, I don’t really like to talk about it.” Erica adds, hoping the statement will deter Sherry from talking about it from anyone else. She feels guilty being so secretive, but she knows if she wants to keep things going smoothly she needs to make sure everything is under wraps. 

 Although Sherry finds the whole thing weird, she doesn’t question what Erica says. She understands when people are uncomfortable, and she also understands when people don’t want to share certain things. “Okay.”

 “Why don’t you find us something to watch, hm?” Erica asks, diverting the conversation elsewhere.

 Sherry forms a straight smile. She’s really glad to have Erica as her babysitter. She’s so awesome — who cares if she eats blood jelly? It’s not that big of a deal. As she turns around to walk over to the couch and grab the remote, Sherry can’t help but think to herself. It’s probably none of her business, but what kind of condition does Erica have exactly that would make her have to eat blood jelly? How long has she had it for? Is it contagious? She probably shouldn’t ask, so maybe she can ask her mom or her dad whenever they get home — they might be able to tell her what it is.

⋆

TIME:  ┃9:55:29 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 A few hours pass by, and Erica has already gone home for the night. Her parents sent her off and are now getting ready for bed, but not before her dad comes in to tuck her in. Sherry is internally fighting herself, wondering if she should inquire to her dad about what Erica told her. It’s not that important, but in the back of her mind she’s fighting herself to ask. As her dad is tucking her into bed, she musters up the courage to say something and peers up at him. “Hey dad?”

 Pausing from tucking the blankets underneath his daughter, William looks down to his daughter’s expectant face. “ Yes ?” Her eyes are filled with curiosity and intrigue, but her stomach is filled with anticipation and anxiety. ‘Just ask the question, you scaredy cat.’ Sherry mentally tells herself before she opens her mouth to speak. “Is there a condition that makes you have to eat blood?” 

 A puzzled expression spreads across her dad’s face. Did his daughter seriously just ask him that? “What in the world are you talking about?”

 She doesn’t answer her dad right away after this, remembering earlier Erica said she didn’t like talking about her condition. With this in mind, Sherry feels like she should explain her question in a different way or use a different scenario, so she does just that. “Today I overheard one of the other kids on the playground talking about a rare medical condition that makes you eat blood. They said it only happens when your body has to rely on a different protein than everybody else. I wanted to know if it was a real condition or not.” She explains.

 William searches his daughter’s face, unable to place exactly what she might be talking about. If her classmate had mentioned the name of said condition, maybe he’d be able to find an answer for her. “Do you remember what it was called?” He asks.

 She shakes her head. “No, sir.”

 He furrows his brows before he starts to stroke his chin in thought. What kind of condition would require the human body to rely on blood? He’s never heard of much less even imagined such a thing; things like that only occur in fiction, but who is he to say there isn’t a disease like that out there? They’re discovered all the time. “Hm. Surely I would have heard of such a thing. Do you know the name of the student who said this?”

 Sherry, still refusing to implicate Erica, shakes her head again. “No…I don’t have any classes with him.”

 William sighs and rises from Sherry’s bed. “Well, I wish I could tell you, sweetheart, but I don’t know what it is. I’d have to do some research for you when I have the time.” He leans over and kisses her on the forehead. As he does so, a frown forms on her lips. ‘You never have the time…’ She thinks as he pulls away and starts walking towards her door. He places his hand on the lightswitch and turns to take one last glance at her, “Goodnight, Sherry.” He smiles.

 Sherry gives him a straight grin. “Goodnight, dad.”

 William flicks off the light and pulls the door closed behind him, and once he does he pauses. What was Sherry talking about? What child would have that kind of condition? How come he has never heard of such a thing? He isn’t sure, but maybe when he has the chance he can ask Albert if he has any knowledge of such a condition.

⋆

LOCATION:  ┃NEST, beneath Raccoon City.
DATE:  ┃January 7th, 1998.
TIME:  ┃12:08:01 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 A couple of days later, Wesker is in one of the labs going over some blood samples for the 1,000th time, inspecting each individual one for their reactions. So far he has come up fruitless, leaving him a little agitated. The past few weeks of data have been incredibly lackluster, and this continuation of failed results is taking a toll on his patience. The hiss of the door echoes through the lab when William enters, and Wesker doesn’t acknowledge who it is at first — partly due to wanting to be left alone. William walks over to his colleague, and Wesker continues his task even as William approaches him. ‘What could he possibly want? Doesn’t he have duties elsewhere?’ Wesker asks himself. “Yes?” He inquires to William, keeping his attention on his vials of blood.

 “By any chance have you ever heard of a condition that makes you eat blood?”

 The question takes Wesker aback, and he faces William just to make sure he isn’t losing his mind. Did he hear that right? He’s positive that’s just what came from William’s mouth, and the sincere look on William’s face confirms that he definitely heard that right. Why would William ask him such a thing? Why would anyone in their right mind eat blood? Unless they were a vampire or some kind of fetishit, he can’t think of any reasons someone would willingly participate in something like that. “...You mean vampirism, right?”

 William shakes his head, “No, no, that’s not what I mean.” He clears his throat. “I mean, as in, a medical condition that forces your body to rely on the consumption of blood.”

 Wesker stares at him, unsure of what to say. Is William playing some kind of trick on him? “I’ve never heard of someone eating blood apart from a vampire. …And if I recall, they do not exist .”

 William rolls his eyes in annoyance, believing Wesker is pulling his leg for shits and giggles. “Well, neither have I, and yet here I am asking you about it.” He sighs out of agitation, running his clammy hands through his disheveled hair. “Sherry said one of her schoolmates has a condition that makes them eat blood. She didn’t tell me who made the claim or what it was called, but it’s been boggling my mind ever since she asked me.”

 Wesker leans back and folds his arms, his curiosity now piqued. Who ever heard of such a thing? What kind of medical condition would require the body to consume blood? Of course the only logical answer is vampirism — he knows that — but what is something that could exist in the real world and not a fictional one? 

 “Do any of her classmates actually have this condition?” He starts to stroke his chin.

 “No,” William leans against a nearby counter, “I individually searched through her entire school system’s medical records for any possible matches and nothing came up. I even had the parents’ medical backgrounds searched, but none of them had what she described.”

 “Hm…It could be possible she’s lying to you.” Wesker proposes, and William furrows his brows, confused by the accusation. “Why would my daughter lie?”

 “Maybe she’s trying to hide something from you. All children hide things from their parents eventually.” Wesker says, but William protests. “No, I know Sherry. She wouldn’t lie. She knows better.”

 “Hm. Well, if you believe her then if I were you I would start with researching possible parasites. There might be a blood eating parasite that affects the host in the same regard.” Wesker explains, hoping the answer will get the man off of his back. He turns back to the blood samples he was focused on before William interrupted him. He doesn’t have time for dilly dallying around theorizing about fictional medical conditions and arguing with William about his daughter’s integrity. William purses his lips before he turns. “Thanks for the tip.” He replies, exiting the lab and heading towards the file rooms. Wesker can’t help but wonder what William was talking about after he leaves. What could the condition be? How could such a thing be possible? It’s plausible it’s all part of Sherry’s imagination, but why would she state she overheard a classmate talking about the condition, much less lie about it? 

 ‘How strange…’ He muses before continuing his sample testing, alone with the silence once again.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃January 11th, 1998.
TIME: ┃12:11:30 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “Hey, Jill, can we talk to you?”

 Jill casually peers up from a report she’s currently reviewing to meet the faces of Chris, Forest, and Joseph. The three of them are staring at her — as if they’re waiting for something. She secretly fears, however, that they’re waiting for her to agree to do something. “ Yes …?” She draws out, “What’s up?” She places her pen down to spin her chair and face the trio.

 “So…we’ve noticed that Erica has been here for almost three weeks now.” Forest starts but Joseph nudges him. “Ow.” Forest makes a face and grabs at the spot Joseph nudged him in, and Joseph holds his finger up to his lips to signify that they need to keep the conversation hush hush. The brunette rolls his eyes and he starts up again. “Although she’s technically not part of the team, she is part of this office and we think it’s sort of a tradition to invite new members to the teams’ nights at Black Jack’s.” 

 “ That being said …” Chris interrupts, covering Forest’s mouth. It would be better if he takes over the conversation since Forest obviously can’t whisper properly. “Can you ask Erica to join us? You know, work your ‘girl power’ thing or whatever and convince her to go.”

 Jill raises a brow, and a smirk starts to tug at the corner of her lips. Did he just say what she thinks he just said? “My…‘girl power thing ’?” She wants to burst out laughing after just hearing the statement, but she manages to keep a straight face and contain her laughter. Is that how they see it? “I hate to break it to you, but we aren’t as close as you think.” She whispers, shielding her mouth with her hand to hold back a snort.

 Jill has seen Erica in passing a few times at their apartment building, and they have made some small talk with each other on several occasions at work but there’s nothing more to it than that. The two women have never hung out to get to know one another, and while Erica seems nice — Jill doesn’t know a damn thing about her. However, there’s always a strange feeling always pulling at Jill’s stomach whenever Erica is around; it’s almost as if she’s having deja vu anytime she’s in the other woman’s presence. She can’t explain it, but she feels like she’s seen Erica before — before she started working at the RPD. Jill brushes off her thoughts and glances back up at the trio. “Why can’t you ask her yourselves?” She questions.

 Chris sheepishly smiles, “We figured she’d say no to us so we thought she might say yes to you.”

 Jill is taken aback by this statement. Why in the world would they think something like that? “What makes you think that?” 

 “We assumed you two were friends. After all, you are the only two women in the office.” Joseph remarks.

 A chuckle slips past Jill’s lips, amused by Joseph’s naive words. “That doesn’t make us friends, doofus. Girls aren’t friends just because they’re girls.” The group frowns at her remark, and she can clearly see they’re disappointed. She purses her lips before sucking in a breath and giving in to their request. Alright, fine; she’ll ask Erica out to Black Jack’s for them, but they owe her one. “ But since you all asked …I’ll see what I can do.”

 Their faces light up upon the words leaving her mouth, and Forest and Joseph return to their desks as giddy as can be. Chris slides behind Jill over to his desk and sits down. He turns to her after she returns to filling out her report. “Thanks, Jill.” He smiles.

 Jill waves her hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. The three of you can repay me with a drink later.” Chris grins wider and gets back to his previous task. “Sure thing.”

 As the group returns to their desks, Erica tries her best not to let her emotions show on her face. She just so happened to overhear their entire conversation — as if their whispering stopped her from hearing them — and she feels her heart gripped by a fist of pain. She isn’t sure if she wants to get involved with Jill or Chris or anyone else for that matter just yet. Even though it’s all part of the plan, she’s afraid of getting close to them again. She’s afraid of them seeing her as a monster, and so far she’s tried to avoid interacting with them beyond casual conversation. Although she hates that she has to keep them at arm’s length for now, she knows it will pay off later. Hopefully , anyway…

 As Erica delves into her thoughts, Wesker eyes her through the slats of his office blinds. Following Birkin’s suggestion to look into her background, he did a basic search on her life prior to Raccoon City; she was born in a small town, made average grades and graduated with a good GPA, worked a couple of odd jobs, and lived a pretty mundane life before she moved to the city. Records show that Erica only recently became a Raccoon citizen, and this makes Wesker wonder what made her come to this city. What made her pick this place? This town is nothing special, so why did she move here ?

 His stomach starting to rumble pulls him from his pondering, and he sighs. He closes out an application on his computer before he gets up from his seat and walks towards his office door. After opening it, he steps out and passes through the S.T.A.R.S. office doorway and makes his way to the breakroom. Once there, he opens the refrigerator to grab his lunch but something stops him. His eyes catch sight of a small container off to the side with Erica’s written name on it. He can’t make out what the container holds and furrows his brows in confusion, wondering what might be inside. He glances over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching him before he gently lifts the lid of the container up. He only catches a glimpse, but once he does he immediately closes the container.

 The sight he saw looks like a reddish brown, jelly like substance, and at first he isn’t sure what it could be but after a moment of thinking he recalls learning of a food in passing many years ago famously called ‘Blood Jelly,’ otherwise known as ‘Pig’s Blood Curd.’ Is that what this could be? If so, the food being present in Erica’s container brings up a whole lot of questions and implications: Why does she eat this? Is this who William’s daughter Sherry was actually referring to? Is this actually the person she claimed relies on blood to survive? No, no, that just doesn’t make any sense — but it doesn’t explain why Erica has blood jelly in her possession. Is it merely a coincidence? He isn’t sure, but he makes a note to himself to arrange for a surveillance team to spy on Erica for a while. If he wants any answers, then he needs to figure out what she’s getting up to when no one is around.

 Wesker quickly grabs his lunch and heads back in the direction of the S.T.A.R.S. office. As he re-enters the office, he makes a passing glance at Erica. She’s focused on some documents, paying no mind to him as he sets foot back into his office and closes the door. After finding his seat, he sets his lunch aside and begins making arrangements for a surveillance team.

 ‘Time to see what Miss Erica Slater is up to.’ He thinks as he hits the ‘Enter’ key on his keyboard. Once the key is pressed, the email he wrote up is then sent to Umbrella HQ, informing one of his personal teams to keep an eye on the unsuspecting woman. 

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Birkin Residence.
DATE: ┃January 14th, 1998.
TIME: ┃5:20:18 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After Sherry got out of school for the day, she was quick to finish her homework before she even got home so she and Erica could paint together as soon as they got there — an activity she has been looking forward to all week. She doesn’t really know how to paint, but she’s excited to learn how. Erica brought along her materials from home and set up the towels, easels, canvases, paint brushes, and paints for them to begin painting. It was quiet for a little while before they started as they pondered for a long time about what they wanted to paint. When they start picking up brushes and spreading paint across their canvases, Sherry starts to feel annoyed by the lack of noise. She decides instead of the two of them sitting in silence, she should get to know her babysitter a little more. “Miss Erica…what was your childhood like?”

 The question makes Erica pause from her painting, and she leans to the side to look at Sherry from behind her canvas. “What made you ask that?” She questions, curious as to how the topic came to the girl’s mind much less why she would want to know about it.

 Sherry shrugs, not breaking her eyes away from her work in progress. “I don’t know, I just wanna know who my babysitter is. You don’t talk about yourself very much…”

 Erica straightens her lips, and she leans back to her original position. She isn’t sure if she wants to tell this little girl about her life — at least not all of it. There’s a lot Erica could talk about; there’s plenty of things, but it doesn’t mean they’re going to be pleasant things. Some things are just better left unsaid. “I didn’t think you wanted to know anything about that.” The young woman laughs nervously. “Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, little Miss Curious, but I don’t have much to say about my childhood. You’re absolutely free to ask me something else, though.” She smiles reassuringly, not wanting to put the girl off or make her concerned. 

 Sherry pouts her lip out, a little disappointed that she didn’t get an answer but not enough to dwell on it. “Do you have any family?” She asks as she cleans her paintbrush.

 Erica inhales and exhales, treading carefully as she tries to think of how to respond. Sherry dips her paintbrush into a new color as Erica answers. “I do. I have a dad, a stepmom, and a couple of brothers. They’re pretty awesome.” She smiles faintly, but it fades when she speaks again. “I have a few more siblings, but they live their lives apart from mine.” 

 Sherry bites her lower lip in thought; at least Erica has a good relationship with her family. Unlike Sherry, who can barely retain her parents’ attention long enough to have a proper relationship with them. But what about Erica’s other family? Why are they not in the picture? Are they with her mom? Why didn’t she mention her mom? What happened? “What about your other siblings? Do you talk to them?” 

 Erica frowns. “No.” She says, and Sherry turns to look at the older woman, saddened by the idea of not being in contact with one’s own family. “Why not?”

 She watches the girl for a moment, trying to think of a way to phrase her sentences carefully. She’s not exactly comfortable putting her problems on anyone else, much less a child. Once she figures out what to say, she pipes up. “Sometimes…people don’t get along, and that’s okay. My other family and I never got along but now I have a family that I do get along with, and because of them I’ve been living a pretty happy life since.” 

 Well, she was living a happy life; that was until she ended up in the fictional town of Raccoon City, and her life as she knew it changed forever. She tried reintegrating herself back into her old life and it failed. Now she’s back in Raccoon trying to pick up the pieces she left behind, but she can’t help but wonder is she really trying? Is she really trying when she’s actively avoiding any attempt at getting close to people? Is she really trying when every time she’s faced with an opportunity she turns it away? Is she trying when she’s being a coward ? She knows she can’t risk exposing herself, but is pushing away anyone who tries to get near her helping her or making things harder for herself? 

 Sherry goes quiet after this, staring at the almost finished painting on her easel. After a moment, she asks what she can only think of asking. “Do you regret it?” She turns to Erica, and Erica stares at her before she shakes her head. “Not at all. I chose what was best for me. Self-love is love, too.”

 Sherry nods, taking in the woman’s answer. “Well, that’s good I guess.” She mumbles. If Erica can choose what’s best for herself, is it possible for Sherry to do the same? Is it possible for Sherry to get her parents’ attention again, like when she was little? Erica’s personal story and advice gives the little girl the hope she needs, and she smiles.

 A few minutes later, Sherry starts kicking her feet. She finished off her painting only moments ago and boredom has taken her over, so she feels the urge to quiz Erica a bit more. She puffs out her cheeks in thought, trying to think of what she should implore on before she turns over to the woman.  “Do you have a boyfriend?” She abruptly asks.

 Erica chuckles a little, tickled by the question. “Now what would make you ask a question like that ?”

 A mischievous grin spreads across Sherry’s lips as she answers. “Because Mr. Wesker talks about you a lot.” She states in a playful tone, and Erica stops what she’s doing and raises a brow. What is Sherry talking about? What does she mean by ‘Mr. Wesker talks about you a lot?’ More importantly, what does she mean by ‘a lot?’

 “What do you mean? In what way?” She questions, and this interest makes Sherry giddy as she begins to list off a few examples. “He’s always talking about you — like how your eyes glow, how you make him ‘aloof’ or whatever that means, and he’ll talk about how good you’re doing at work. He does it so much it must mean he likes you.” Sherry may be young, but she’s not stupid. She can tell when someone likes someone else, and considering how anytime Wesker is at her house now he mentions Erica’s name he must have some kind of thing for her. Can she really blame him? Erica is awesome, and she’s super pretty, too. 

 Erica is stunned by the words that come out of Sherry’s mouth. Does she really preoccupy Wesker’s mind like that? Does she make him ‘aloof’ like Sherry claims? Ugh… Part of her feels sick to her stomach at the thought of Wesker thinking of her in that kind of way, and another part of her feels embarrassed to have someone like him observe her like that. Why is he studying her so closely? How often does he speak about her this way? The notions make her face turn red from embarrassment, feeling so vulnerable like that; to be watched and observed like she’s his little test subject again. It makes her feel disgusted in ways nobody could imagine, but she hides her disgust from the girl.

 The young girl quickly takes notice of Erica’s change in complexion. “You’re so red, haha! That must mean you like him, too!” She giggles, clapping her hands as she sings along to a rhyme. “Erica and Wesker sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G !” She teases.

 “Okay, okay, you had your fun.” Erica laughs, trying to dismiss the conversation before it can become a bigger one; she doesn’t want to give Sherry any ideas. “Are you finished?”

 Sherry nods her head. “Yes, ma’am.”

 “Good, now go clean yourself up. You got paint all over your hands and arms.” Erica smiles, and the girl gets up from her chair and starts heading to the bathroom. 

 As she leaves, Erica can’t help but think about what Sherry said; why does Wesker talk about her? Is he suspicious of her? Could it be possible he might be right on her tail? Does this mean he actually is stalking her? She isn’t sure, but the paranoia makes her believe she should start looking over her shoulder from now on. Her nightmare about Oswell Spencer back in December made her believe she should be more wary, but she decided to brush it off since he didn’t know who she was and she’s had no problems since. However, if Wesker is onto her then she needs to straighten up and try to steer his suspicions away from her — and that’s exactly what she’ll do.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃January 16th, 1998.
TIME: ┃ 8:03:42 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 The blaring sound of a television and popping popcorn fills Erica’s ears as she relaxes into her couch, snuggling up in a warm blanket as she starts watching a movie. She decided to put on a movie after getting home from work and she chose one of her personal favorites: Ghostbusters. After her popcorn is finished popping, she stands to go remove the bag from the microwave. She reaches into one of the cabinets and pulls out a bowl for her popcorn, but just as she opens the microwave the phone on Erica’s wall rings, echoing loudly through the apartment. She furrows her brows; who could that be? She wasn’t expecting anyone to call her… 

 She walks over to the ringing phone and pulls it off  the hook before putting it to her ear. 

 “Hello?” She answers, but there’s no response on the other line. She can make out the sounds of shuffling and frantic movement, but she doesn’t hear anyone speaking. That’s weird. “Hello? Is anyone there?” She asks, hoping if she says something again she’ll be heard — however, there’s still no reply. “ Hello ?” She tries one more time to get an answer, but when the phone falls silent once again she makes a face and puts the phone back on the hook, confused as to what just happened. Did she just imagine that? Did that really just happen? “Alright then.” She mumbles to herself before she returns to the kitchen to pull the popcorn out of the microwave and pour it into the bowl. Just as she’s about to walk back over to the couch, the phone rings again. She sighs and places her bowl of popcorn onto the kitchen counter and walks back to the phone. She picks it up and presses it to her ear. 

 “ Hello ?” She answers, developing the feeling that she’s being punked. Or worse , someone’s trying to scare her.

 This time someone answers and while she can’t make out what anyone is saying, there are voices whispering and or giggling in the background. Then, a voice speaks up as clear as day. “Hi, is uh, is this Erica?” It sounds like Chris, but why would Chris be calling her? What could he want from her at eight o’clock at night?

 “Yes, this is she. Who is this?” She questions, and her suspicions about who’s on the other line are confirmed when he states his name. “This is Chris — Chris Redfield?”

 Erica subconsciously leans against her kitchen counter; a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. She feels a giddy butterfly tickle the walls of her stomach as it flutters its wings. “Hey, Chris. What’s up?”

 “Nothing much. How are you?” He responds.

 Erica starts to twirl the cord to her phone, staring at the floor. “I’m good. Um, did you call me just now?” She awkwardly laughs. 

 “No, actually, that was Forest. I just, uh, wanted to call you back and apologize.” The remark makes Erica feel like it’s a complete and utter lie, but at least she knows she didn’t imagine that phone call. Are they trying to prank her or something? 

 “ Oookay …” She draws out, and it’s quiet for a moment before she breaks the silence settling on the phone line. “Is that all?” She questions.

 “Yes.”

 She bites into her lower lip, cringing at herself. Why is it so hard to talk to him? Why can’t she stop being such a pussy and get over herself for a change? She can have the confidence to take on a whole pharmaceutical company, why can’t she have the confidence to talk to a hot guy? Why can’t she just throw all caution to the wind? “Alrighty then, well, I’ll talk to you later, Chris.” She says, and she squeezes her eyes shut as she mentally slaps herself. So much for ‘throw all caution to the wind.’

 “Oh, okay. Well…talk to you later then.” His response sounds a little sad, but she knows there’s no coming back from that one. 

 “ Bye bye .” She frowns.

 “Bye.”

  Once the two bid their goodbyes, Erica places the phone back onto the hook. She fumbles with her fingers and chews her lower lip. She stands there puzzled for a moment; what just happened exactly? What did Forest call her for, and did he really call her or was it just an excuse? Why did Chris feel the need to apologize? Why was that interaction so awkward ? Did she really just shut him down like that? The poor man didn’t even get the chance to start much less continue the conversation. What is wrong with her? Ugh! After scolding herself, she returns back to her popcorn and movie, secretly praying she won’t get anymore calls.

 “Dude, what was that?”

 Chris looks towards his colleague and roommate Forest and scoffs. “It was a hell of a lot better than what you did! Who calls and doesn’t say anything?”

 Joseph, who’s currently chilling on the couch and watching television, pipes up to give his input. “He has a point, dude.” 

 Forest folds his arms defensively, “I don’t even understand why you’re interested in her, anyways. I thought you had a thing for Jill .”

 Forest is right; Chris does have a thing for Jill, but it seems like ever since Erica started working at the RPD she’s all he ever thinks about. It’s not like they’ve gotten to know each other or she’s done anything that stands out to him — it’s just that he can’t place his feelings of deja vu. Whenever she’s around, he always feels like they were supposed to meet in different circumstances; almost as if it was wrong of her to join the S.T.A.R.S. department. Her presence makes him so confused, but why is that? Where is Erica from? Where has he seen her? He already asked her if they met before and she told him they hadn’t, but why does Chris feel like that isn’t the truth? Aside from that, Jill hasn’t so much as glanced in his direction in a way he’s hoped for the past year and a half. Ever since Chris joined S.T.A.R.S. he could feel a natural pull towards her, but now that Erica is in the picture he feels so…conflicted. He slips out of his thoughts and shrugs. “Yeah, well…I think it’s time to cut my losses and face the facts. I don’t think Jill is ever going to see me, but maybe this girl will.”

 Forest laughs. “It’s not like you made a move to make her see you.” He raises a brow, “This girl must be really special if you switched up on Jill that fast.”

 Chris walks over to the refrigerator and opens the door to grab a beer. “I don’t know, man. It’s like I already know her. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like I met her in a past life or something.”

Forest finds a spot next to Joseph and the two of them look at each other. “Wow, he’s really lost it.” Forest jokes.

 “She must have put a spell on him or something.” Joseph comments, and Chris rolls his eyes at his friends’ antics. At least he isn’t afraid to approach her and have casual conversations with her, unlike some people. Although he does make attempts to get to know her, he finds it strange how Erica tries to avoid talking about herself. She doesn’t ever share her interests or what she likes to do outside of work, and anytime someone asks it seems like she ignores the question or acts like she didn’t hear it altogether. It’s not necessarily suspicious — he understands if someone wants to keep to themselves and their business on the low — but the way she goes about it is odd. He decides to shrug it off as he walks out of the kitchen. 

 “Yeah, whatever.” He retorts before he takes a seat on the couch to join the other two, ready to watch a movie with the boys. “Let’s just start this movie already.”

 “Finally something we can agree on.”

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃January 30th, 1998.
TIME: ┃1:17:41 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

  It’s been over two weeks since Wesker had instructed a team to follow Erica around, but for each and every report they bring back to him the searches come up with nothing, nada, zilch . All the strange little woman does is go to work, go home, or go grocery shopping. She never does anything else or goes anywhere else, and nothing about her comes across as suspicious at all. Their stakeouts are causing Umbrella’s time and money to be wasted, and he needs to be resourceful instead of wasteful; he needs to find an opportunity to capture her when she’s vulnerable. His superiors have been breathing down his neck, questioning his professionalism due to his, ahem, fixation . To him, Erica Slater is an interesting specimen. She appears just like everyone else, but something about her stands out to him. If not for the constant deja vu, there’s always the glow of her eyes when she looks at him, and he swears he can see her teeth sharpen when he’s not looking. Her persona is kind, but her eyes speak 1,000 words — and many of them are not kind. It may or may not frighten him and arouse him all at the same time, further urging his desire to pursue the young woman.

 Erica, however, has become aware of Wesker’s snooping. After Sherry Birkin spilled the beans of his suspicions, she started to pay more attention to her surroundings. She’s caught glimpses of Umbrella following her around, lurking around every corner in search of her. She’s spotted them a few times parked on the side of the street when she’s gone to work or to the store, and she could hear them inside their vehicles. Vile, disgusting words would come from their mouths and she would have gladly ripped out their tongues to teach them a lesson, but she knew she had to remain calm; she has no desire to bring any more attention to herself. Because of this, she has been careful in her activities — choosing to do the most mundane of things and get them off her tail. Everytime she would catch them following her she would wait them out and, eventually, they would leave her alone. She hopes she can do it enough that it’s permanent and bore them away. The thing is, she isn’t sure how long she has to do it for. How long does she have to keep putting on this act? How long are they going to pursue her for? How long will it be until they kidnap her and subject her to further experimentation? Will they even capture her at all? Is she just being paranoid? She doesn’t know, and she doesn’t know what will happen to her, but what she does know is that laying low is the best option for her right now.

 “Hey, Erica, can I speak with you?”

 The voice cuts through Erica’s thoughts and she looks up from staring off into space. Jill is standing above her with an eager smile. “Yeah, what’s up?” She puts on a friendly face, but deep inside she’s feeling anxious; anxious as to what the other woman could want to speak to her about. She has a gut feeling Jill is about to ask her the one thing she’s been dreading to be asked — afraid of the invite she’s been trying to prevent from receiving.

 “So…some of the other members of the team and I have been meaning to ask you for a while now if you’d like to join us at Black Jack’s for a drink. Are you up for it?”

 The offer makes Erica immediately apprehensive. She knew it; she knew this is what Jill was going to ask her. She wants to decline, but before she answers she holds her tongue. For the past two weeks she has deliberately tried to avoid talking to any of the S.T.A.R.S. members in a way that could potentially lead to them inviting her out to Black Jack’s ever since she overheard their conversation that they wanted to invite her. She’s tried to make excuses and come up with explanations to keep conversations short, but she knows she can’t excuse her way out of it this time. Now is her chance to get close to the S.T.A.R.S. members. She has to stop being such a coward and letting her emotions get in the way of her objective: taking Umbrella down. She’s already integrated herself into the S.T.A.R.S. members’ workplace and now she has to integrate herself into their lives. She can’t let her fear of getting hurt or hurting someone else get in the way of that, and she’s had plenty of enough time to sit around and feel afraid. Now is the time to act, so she decides to accept Jill’s offer. 

 “Uhm, sure. That sounds fun.” She smiles.

 Jill gives her a wide grin as her eyes light up with gratitude. Thank God. Maybe the guys will get off of her back now. “Great! How does next Saturday sound?”

 “That sounds pretty good to me.” Erica replies, smiling on the outside but panicking on the inside. Is she really going to do this? Is she going to allow herself to be vulnerable again? Oh she absolutely is, but although she’s terrified out of her mind — she’s got this . 

 “Great! I’ll call you and let you know the details.” Jill chirps.

 As Jill returns to her seat, Chris leans over to nudge her on the arm. “You’re a lifesaver, Jill.” He thanks her, and she rolls her eyes with the shake of her head. “Yeah, yeah. You can thank me later.” She chuckles, and she points a finger at him. “Don’t forget that drink you owe me.”

 Chris gives a mischievous wink. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.”

  Wesker, who is sitting in his office, overheard the whole exchange through the crack of his door and he feels a smug smirk tug at the corner of his lips. It seems Valentine has given Wesker the opportunity he needs to ensure Erica is alone and vulnerable. At long last he’ll be able to have Erica alone and see who this woman truly is behind closed doors. He pulls up a tab on his computer in order to arrange another team — but this time he’s making arrangements for an extraction team.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃███.
DATE: ┃█ ███, ████.
TIME: ┃█:██:██ ██.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Drowning could be anyone’s worst fear, and for as long as she could remember it was also one of Erica’s. When she wakes up to find herself submerged in water, she instantly starts to panic. Imagine her state of mind when she suddenly realizes that not only is she possibly about to drown, but she’s not even in her own body. She’s inside the body of a Hunter — a large, monstrous, reptilian creature bioengineered by Umbrella. Her eyes widen and she freaks out over seeing her horrific form. What. The. Fuck ? What is happening? How is this happening? What is going on? Where is she? Why is she this thing ? She squints her eyes to try to see through the water filling the incubation tube she’s currently residing in, and through the water and thick glass she can see two figures; Albert Wesker and William Birkin. They’re standing at a nearby terminal — their voices muffled at first before they start to become somewhat intelligible. She listens in on their conversation as best as she can.

 “So, what do you propose then?” William asks, and Wesker faces the other man. “I’m not sure what to propose. She could simply just be a human with an anomalous condition or a strange appetite, but I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” He chuckles. 

 William scoffs, “ We ? Need I remind you that you’re the only one so dead set on this woman. I propose you’ve developed an obsession with her.” Wesker clears his throat, quickly denying his acquaintance’s words. “I wouldn’t call it an obsession — ” He starts searching for a different word, waving his hand in a circle as his mind digs around in his thoughts. “ — more like a fixation .” He corrects.

 “Or infatuation .” William remarks, and Wesker sighs in irritation. “Why are you so dead set on the idea that I am romantically interested in Miss Slater?” 

 It’s not as if William has ever said it, but Wesker isn’t an imbecile; he knows his acquaintance is implying he favors Erica in a more… casual sense. It’s not as if he opposes the idea; Erica is an attractive woman and sometimes he catches himself eyeing her figure. He certainly wouldn’t mind seeing what she has to offer. Personality wise she seems nice enough, but Wesker hasn’t been around her intimately enough to know who she really is. That’s exactly what he intends to find out. Who is Erica Slater ? He feels like he’s asked himself that question too many times to count, but perhaps once she’s in Umbrella’s custody he can get the answers he’s been craving. He wants to know what she’s been hiding from him.

 “I didn’t say anything about a ‘romantic’ interest but now that you mention it, it explains your penchant for her.” William states, and Wesker shakes his head, dismissing the other’s words. “There’s just something about her, William.” He starts, “When she looks at me, it’s like there’s this — this monster inside of her eyes ready to attack me, and I plan on finding out what that monster is. ”

 William stares at Wesker, wondering if he heard that right. A snort escapes him as he snickers, “Erica? You think Erica Slater has a monster inside of her? You must have smelled a few too many chemicals while you were in the labs.” Wesker’s choice of words sounds utterly preposterous — Erica looks like she could barely hurt a fly much less a human being. What in the world makes Wesker of all people think she’s a threat?

 Wesker sneers, turning away from him.“You’ll see once we have her. I’m no mad man.”

 “Not yet you aren’t.” William chuckles.

 As Erica listens in on their conversation, it fills her with rage and revulsion. So it’s true; they are planning on kidnapping her and experimenting on her — again . She can’t allow that to happen. No, she won’t allow that to happen. Not a chance. 

 Erica presses her reptilian hands against the glass of the tube, and she slowly leans her head back before she smashes her head forcefully against the glass. She’s going to get them before they get her, and she’s going to kill them before they can kill her again. She’s going to EaT them and dEvOuR tHe FlEsH oFf ThEiR bOnEs ! The sound of glass cracking immediately causes the two men to whip their heads in the direction of the incubation tube. They watch as the massive reptile bangs its head again and again; the violent impacts cracking the thick glass. Blood merges with the water in the tank as it seeps from Erica's reptilian head, and her head eventually bursts through the hole, causing water to rapidly spill onto the floor. Shards of glass fall and shatter, and a loud, ear splitting screech slips past Erica’s massive maw as she stares the two scientists down. 

 HeRe I cOmE!

 “H-Holy shit!” William exclaims, terrified as he witnesses the sight. He immediately takes off running to find a panic button and ring the alarm. As the creature begins snarling and gnashing its teeth with malice, Wesker stares at it in awe and fascination. Did that creature just speak? Since when could it do that?  He finally comes to his senses and rushes in the same direction William ran off to, and as he looks back he notices the creature start writhing on the floor. What the hell just happened? What is going on? Is he losing his mind? 

 Umbrella’s biowaste removal team arrives and quickly disposes of the rogue Hunter, and the two researchers are then questioned about what happened leading up to this occurrence. The mens’ statements are taken, and the report is sent off to HQ. The whole incident was so bizarre, and no one understands how this could have happened, much less William and Wesker. Many questions and rumors began to flood through the facility fairly quickly: How could something like this happen? Was there some kind of defect in the glass? How did that Hunter gain consciousness when it was in a chemically induced state? Why did the monster target Dr. Wesker and Dr. Birkin? Did it really speak?

 The lab is quickly cleaned up as if nothing occurred and work in the NEST returns to normal, but Wesker can’t help but wonder if what he heard was real or not. Did that Hunter really speak? Or has working in the labs finally taken its toll on him? Has his ‘obsession’ as William calls it begun to affect him? He then asks himself what the other employees have been asking themselves to make sense of things, but he’s pulled out of his thoughts when he feels someone touch his shoulder.

 His shoulder is touched by William, who’s looking at him with concern. “Are you alright?”

 Wesker brushes him off, trying to ignore the blatant shock he was experiencing. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I guess I wasn’t expecting that.”

 William is dumbfounded by the statement. Did some screws become loose in his colleague’s brain back in the lab? Who in their right mind would expect that to happen? “Well of course you weren’t. Nobody would expect something like that. Are you sure you’re alright?”

 Wesker shakes his head and waves his hand dismissively. “Yes, I’m fine. Now, where were we?”

 “We were discussing Miss Slater, but it’s no matter now. The moment has passed, and I think after tonight I think I’m going to need a drink. Don’t you?”

 “I wholeheartedly agree.”

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃February 3rd, 1998.
TIME: ┃1:58:38 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

  Gasp .

 Erica shoots up from her bed, panting as she frantically looks around the room. Her head throbs with an unimaginable pain, and she groans before she reaches her hand up to touch her forehead. Her fingers touch something wet, and her eyes widen. She immediately jumps out of her bed and rushes to her bathroom, flicking on the light and looking down at her hands. They’re covered with blood, sticky with the red liquid. When her eyes shift to her mirror, she screams as she catches sight of her appearance; her forehead is covered with blood, dripping down her face and seeping into her hair. As she looks closely she notices there’s no wound found amongst the sea of red, but that’s not all — for the whites of her eyes are replaced by a deep red, and her blue irises are glowing as they stare back at her. What the fuck? Those aren’t her eyes — those aren’t her eyes ! Where are her eyes?!

 She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, hoping the horrifying image will go away when she opens them again. She relaxes her eyes and slowly opens them to look at her reflection, and her irises and scleras have returned back to their normal colors. 

 Erica frowns, eyes watering as she stares back at her bloodied complexion. So many questions run a million miles an hour through her head, and she can’t seem to find just one to focus on. What just happened? How was it possible for her dream injuries to affect her in real life? How was she able to inhabit the body of another B.O.W.? How was she able to transfer her consciousness like that? None of that happened the last time she was here. She doesn’t know how any of it was possible, but she doesn’t ever want to do it again for as long as she lives. She would like to stay in her own body from now on, regardless of its flaws. It was so… freaky being that reptilian nightmare. When she was in its body, it was like she wasn’t herself anymore. She became an actual monster.

 Erica walks over to the shower and reaches behind the shower curtain to turn on the hot water. The water squeals as it starts, and the pulsing of her head causes her to caress her temples. She sighs and begins removing her clothes, careful not to get any blood on them and tossing them to the side. She pulls the curtain to the side and gets into the shower, closing the shower curtain back as the hot water hits her face and starts soaking her hair. 

 She starts to wash off the blood, staring at the red filled water as it goes down the drain. She eyes the shower floor as hot water trickles down on her body, and she can’t help but think about what just transpired. 

 What she just had was not just any old regular nightmare; she actually inhabited the body of a B.O.W.. She somehow was able to transfer her consciousness into another T-virus infected body, and because of this she happened to overhear William and Wesker’s plans to kidnap her. What does she do now? Does this mean she won’t be able to catch a break from Umbrella? Does she still have to keep an eye on every corner she happens to turn to? Does she still have to stay watchful? It’s not like Erica wouldn’t hear or see them coming, but she never knows what might happen. Umbrella could always have a trick up their sleeve that she isn’t aware about. 

 She starts washing her hair and her body, and she faces up towards the streams of the water as it covers her and washes away the soap. She breathes slowly, replaying the scene from her nightmare in her head over and over. She almost had them; she was so close to making those horrible, awful men meet their ends and pay for what they did to her…but something stopped her. The connection between herself and the B.O.W. was severed, and that’s when she woke up and discovered a murder scene on her face. 

 After finishing her shower, Erica shuts off the water and pulls the curtain aside. She grabs a towel from the nearby rack and promptly wraps it around herself, stepping out of the shower and drying off her body. She wraps the towel around her hair once she’s finished drying her body, and as she glances at the mirror she reaches up to wipe her hand across it. The misty reflection becomes clear after she swipes, and she smiles a little seeing that her once bloody complexion is now clean. 

 Now that she’s clean — it’s time to go back to bed. 

 Hopefully she can catch some shut eye and avoid finding herself in a different body this time.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Black Jack’s.
DATE: ┃February 7th, 1998.
TIME: ┃7:06:29 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

   Inhale .

 Erica takes a deep breath, exhaling as she loosens her grip on her purse. She’s standing in the Black Jack’s parking lot, nervous as she stares up at the bright flashing neon ‘OPEN’ sign in the bar’s front window. She’s been pacing around in the parking lot for at least five minutes now, avoiding walking through the bar’s entrance. Is she actually about to do this? Is she really ready to be around these people again? It’s not as if she hasn’t been around them already, but this time is different. This is outside of work. She’s been apprehensive about getting to know any of her coworkers all over again, but tonight is the night she’s going to have to stop that refrain; she’s going to relax and have fun. After all, she didn’t walk down here for nothing…even if it was just a short walk from her apartment building. Plus, she’s not stupid enough to drink and drive. She knows it’s probably not smart to be walking, but tonight she doesn’t want to worry about Umbrella or anything else. She wants to relax, and she will once she goes in.

 She’s been listening in on all the joy and cheer happening inside; there’s a collection of voices laughing and carrying on, and as she listens closely she can hear the distinct voices of her colleagues. She chews her lower lip and finally approaches the door. She cautiously steps inside, and as her eyes travel across the bar they meet the faces of Jill, Chris, Joseph, Richard, Brad, and Edward. Barry, Enrico, Kenneth, and Wesker are the only team members that aren’t present. However, there are three other women present; two of them are hovering around Richard and Edward, making Erica assume that they’re either the mens’ girlfriends or, at the very least, dates, and a third one is talking to Brad. 

 Jill quickly notices Erica out of the corner of her eye; she made it! She promptly walks over and greets Erica with a smile. “ Hey . I’m glad you could make it.” She says. 

 “ Hi .” Erica gives a straight smile, “Yeah, me too.” She laughs awkwardly. Of course — that’s a lie. Her inner introvert secretly wishes she could have stayed home, watched a movie, and got comfortable underneath some warm blankets until she fell asleep. Clearly, however, that’s not how her night is going.

 Jill observes the other woman’s appearance. Erica is wearing an off the shoulder long sleeve, a pair of dark bell bottom jeans, and some chunky heeled brown boots, and her makeup is a basic smokey eye with a soft pink lipstick. She dresses up nice at work, but it’s usually work attire. It’s clear she just has a sense of style and knows how to dress in general. Maybe Jill can get a few tips from her sometime. “You look great!” Jill compliments, and Erica smiles sheepishly. She initially thought she went a little overboard with her makeup and outfit, but Jill’s genuine comment makes her feel more confident in her choices. “Oh, thank you, Jill.”

 “Come on, let me introduce you to Chris’s sister — you’ll love her.” The statement that leaves Jill’s mouth is followed by the tug of Erica’s arm, and the blonde is pulled by the brunette over to the group of S.T.A.R.S. members. As she and Jill walk over, Chris shifts his attention from his conversation with Forest and Joseph to Erica. His heart seems to skip a beat as he watches her approach the pool table where his sister, Claire, and Brad are playing pool, and a lump in his throat is swallowed as quickly as it’s formed. She looks good tonight — no, she looks drop dead gorgeous . “ Holy shit .” Chris murmurs, and Forest turns around to see what Chris is looking at. When he does, his mouth falls open a little. Goddamn . Joseph glances over and raises his brows. “Wow. Erica looks fantastic . And here I thought she looked nice in her work clothes.”

 “Yeah…” Chris draws out, starstruck for a moment before he snaps himself out of it. He’s got to talk to her tonight — he has to. Even if it’s the last thing he does, he’s got to shoot his shot.

 “Hi, I’m Claire Redfield.” The redhead holds out her hand for Erica to shake, “You must be the Erica Slater I’ve heard so much about.” She grins, and Erica reaches out to shake the younger girl’s hand. The last time she met Claire was the last time she was in Raccoon City, aka, during the outbreak. Although she’s anxious to meet someone she once knew, she’s glad she has the opportunity to meet her in much happier circumstances. The statement that leaves the girl’s lips after her introduction, however, makes Erica raise a brow. ‘Heard so much about’? Since when has Claire already heard of her? “You’ve heard of me?” She questions, tilting her head curiously.

 Claire laughs, “My brother and his friends aren’t very good at whispering or keeping secrets.”

 A laugh slips from Erica’s lips; how ironic. “You’re telling me.” She jokes, considering she can hear said brother and friends talking about her not too far away from where she is at this very moment. She should have known that’s how Claire would have heard of her.

 “So, how do you like working at the S.T.A.R.S. office so far?” Jill asks and Erica smiles. “I really enjoy it, and all of you have made me feel so welcome.”

 “Is there anyone you like ?” Claire teases, and Erica feels her anxiety practically take her by a chokehold. Oh dear God no. She doesn’t have the desire to talk about her feelings, nor does she have the desire to give Claire or Jill or anybody else for that matter any ideas . What’s the deal with everyone trying to set her up with someone? Deciding to avoid the topic for now, she brushes it off. “No one. I’m kind of a loner, heh.” She nervously replies. The two women are quickly disappointed by the revelation, but deep down they don’t really think she’s telling the truth; they think that she actually does like someone from the office — she just doesn’t want to spill the beans. 

 The two of them decide to leave it alone and the three women start to chat for a few minutes, sharing a couple of common interests or how their day went before Erica decides she would like a drink. She politely excuses herself, turns, and walks up to the bar counter where she orders a rum and coke. Erica turns around once she has her drink and sips from her glass, and Chris’s trio continues their conversation from across the bar. “So, which one of us is going to talk to her first?” Joseph asks, and Chris’s answer is immediate.

 “ Dibs .”

 Forest rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right. You couldn’t even talk to her on the phone — what makes you think you can talk to her here?” He remarks, and his friends both look at him with deadpan expressions. “Says the guy that called her and didn’t say anything.” Joseph jokes, and Forest squints his eyes at the two men before pursing his lips and stroking his chin. “Touché.”

 Chris decides to cut the shit and he starts walking away from the duo and over to Erica, who finds herself a seat at a two chaired table near the pool table that Jill, Claire, and Brad are standing around. He’s going to talk to her — he swears it. 

 As he walks away, Joseph and Forest continue their conversation. “Do you think he’s gonna blow it?” Forest asks.

 Joseph shrugs. “It’s possible he might completely obliterate it, but we never know. She could be into him. I’ve seen how she looks at him sometimes.” He takes a sip from his beer. 

 “I don’t believe you. You see how stand-offish she is with people.” Forest starts to ponder the possible reasons as to why that might be. One comes to mind: “Do you think she already has a boyfriend? Or a husband?” 

 “Well, she and Jill live in the same apartment building and Jill said she lives alone, so no I don’t think so.”

 “Alright, fine, then you explain why she’s so… weird ?” He asks.

 “I don’t know man. Maybe she’s just not into getting involved with people.” Joseph  explains, and from across the room the statement makes Erica cringe inside. Joseph is right — Erica isn’t into getting involved with people; she’s afraid of potentially hurting people and, more importantly, getting hurt. Although she’s come a long way to learn to accept that it’s okay to be vulnerable, there are still parts of her that retract in fear of rejection. She can’t help it; it’s just her mind and body’s natural reaction. 

 Chris’s presence instantly pulls her from her thoughts, and Erica peers up at him. She gives him a welcoming smile. “Hey, Chris.”

 “Hey, Erica.” He smiles back; his heart beats a little faster as he sees the tug of her smile on her lips. She has such a pretty smile. “You finally made it to a night at Black Jack’s, huh?” He questions.

 “I did.” Erica sips from her drink, hoping the alcohol will distract her from Chris’s handsome face. “So far, so good.” She jokes, and she’s immediately repulsed at her poor attempt at making a joke. Oh, boy, here we go. 

 Her terrible excuses for flirting seem to be working when Chris laughs at her cringe-worthy remark before gesturing to the chair across from Erica. “Do you mind if I sit?”

 “Oh, yeah, go ahead. I don’t mind.” Erica replies, but the reality is she does mind. She doesn’t want him getting so involved with her, afraid it might come back to bite her in the ass later. To be more specific, she might accidentally bite his head off. She wants to be his friend, gain his trust, and get his help. She doesn’t want anything more than that, but the negative notions in her head start to dissipate when Chris begins asking questions about herself; what kind of music does she listen to, what kind of movies does she like to watch, does she play any video games, etc., etc. Her discomfort and reluctance to open up washes away as the conversation goes on, and she remembers the reasons why she fell so hard for Chris the first time she was here. Aside from the both of them having common interests, Chris is a good listener, he’s funny, and he isn’t afraid to show pieces of himself. Not to mention he’s a total hottie. She catches herself daydreaming as she looks at him, and when she returns to planet earth she realizes Chris is stumbling over his words. What is he saying? She wasn’t exactly paying attention…

 “Don’t hurt yourself.” Erica giggles.

 Chris laughs. “I’m trying not to.” He says before he lets out a big sigh. “I don’t mean to get sappy,” He starts, “But it’s been nice having you part of the team.”

 Erica lets out a breathy laugh, staring down at her almost empty drink. “Well, I’m not really part of the team. I just, you know…file things and organize stuff.” She murmurs.

 Chris shrugs. “So do we, but nobody does it as well as you do.” He takes a sip from his beer, “Matter of fact, you actually keep us on top of everything. If it wasn’t for you, I’m sure a lot of us would have been a lot farther behind than we would have liked.”

The sentimental statement makes Erica feel appreciated, and she peers up from her drink to stare at him. Her eyes search his face before she awkwardly smiles. “Oh…well, thank you, Chris. I appreciate you saying that.”

 Chris stares into her eyes as she gazes at him, and his heart skips a beat again. He’s pretty sure it might be considered a medical problem if it happens again. “You’re welcome.” 

 The way Erica’s eyes glow allure him, but it’s almost like if he stares for too long he’ll fall right in. It terrifies him, but it makes him want to rush into the danger all at the same time. It’s like an illusion to him; that if he runs in head first he’ll come in contact with something tragic and beautiful all at once. Although he doesn’t think he’ll ever solve the deja vu he feels about her, Chris doesn’t mind it at all. He’s fine with getting to know Erica ‘all over again’ in a sense if that’s what it takes to cure his deja vu.

 The two smile at each other before they’re called to play a game of darts against Claire and Jill. Chris gives Erica a look before he stands, “You wanna play?” He asks. 

 Erica ponders for a moment. Oh, what the hell? It’s just a game of darts. She nods and follows suit; a big, love sick grin on her face as she trails behind him. 

⋆

TIME: ┃11:39:58 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “She’s exiting the establishment now, sir.” An Umbrella officer speaks into a radio, confirming the location of their target. “But she’s with someone. Do we have permission to pursue?”

 On the other line of the radio, a voice promptly replies. “Permission granted. You know what to do.” 

 After she bids her goodbyes to her coworkers, Erica then makes her way out of Black Jack's and into the parking lot with Chris following behind her. There’s a giddy feeling resting in the pit of her stomach; she had a nice time hanging out with all of the S.T.A.R.S. members again, and she’s glad she let loose and stopped being such an uptight asshole. She finally got out of the house for a change and had a drink, too. Many of them as a matter of fact. She's drunk but not too drunk; she’s clearly not sober enough to drive, which led to Chris offering to give her a ride home. He didn’t have that much to drink tonight, too focused on Erica to feel the need to drink — so obviously he didn’t mind giving her a ride home. She was obviously apprehensive about it at first, but seeing as she was drunk and it was only a block away she knew it was probably a good idea. She starts walking in the direction of Chris’s car, and he walks over to hold it open for her.

 She looks at him for a moment before she sheepishly smiles; her cheeks flushing red as a “Thank you” slips past her lips. He grins back at her and closes the door after she gets in, and he hops into the driver’s side.

The officer in the passenger seat nods to the driver who takes the vehicle out of park, keeping his foot on the brake pedal as their prey exits the bar and gets into a vehicle. As soon as the car starts to move — so does the black SUV that was parked on the far corner of the street.

 Halfway to her apartment, Erica turns her head slightly and notices that a black SUV is following them through the rear view mirror. On the front license plate is an Umbrella logo, and the sight makes her face forward and take a deep breath. ‘Keep calm, Erica. You’re with Chris. You’ll be fine.’ She reassures herself as she looks forward, and after a while she starts to realize that the SUV isn’t letting off.

 Just as they are about to turn into her apartment building’s parking lot, the SUV turns a corner and veers off into a different direction. She sighs a breath of relief and she looks at Chris. There’s so many things she wants to say to him — but they’ll have to wait for another time. She purses her lips before she gives him a smile when he turns to look at her. “We’re here.” He smiles back, “Do you need any help getting upstairs?”

 Erica shakes her head, chucking. “No. I think I’ve got it.” She replies, “Thank you, though.”

 Chris watches her as she gets out of the vehicle, and once the door is closed he starts backing out. He keeps an eye on her as he pulls out of the parking lot, and she gives him a wave before he smiles to himself about her innocent gesture. Erica watches him as he leaves the area, smiling to herself. Tonight was fun. Maybe she and the S.T.A.R.S. members can get together and do it again sometime.

 Erica is just about to make it to the entrance of the building, but she stops when she feels the soft prick of something against her skin. What the ? She immediately looks down to her leg where the source of the prick came from, and she spots a tiny tranquilizer dart sticking out of her skin. She removes it from her leg and looks in the direction of the SUV where two Umbrella officers begin exiting the vehicle and walking towards her. Her eyes widen in fear and she instantly tries to take off running, but she doesn’t get farther than a few feet before she stumbles and falls to her knees. Her legs become numb, and the numbness starts to travel up her body. “No…” She cries, forcing herself to get up and continue. “No, this isn’t happening.”

 She reaches into her purse to pull out a .9mm pistol, and she turns to aim her weapon in their direction when she’s shot with another tranquilizer. This time it hits the arm holding the gun, and the numbness takes over her body before she can pull the trigger. How could she let this happen? How could she have been so damn stupid ? She let herself be vulnerable and look at what happened! She’s going to be taken away and she’ll never be heard from again, and more than likely they will kill her this time — or worse, they’ll keep her and experiment on her further. She grits her teeth in anger; she can’t let that happen. She can’t — she won’t . She tries to get up again, but her body has already fallen victim to the tranquilizer and all she can do is lie face up as she pathetically cries. She may have messed up for now, but she’s going to make up for her mistake. She swears it…

 “Dammit, Nick. You shot her twice.” One of the Umbrella officers says as two of them approach her body. “Sorry. She was aiming her gun at me, what else was I supposed to do?” The other one sheepishly replies before nudging Erica’s arm with his foot to see if she was fully conscious. “She’s out.” 

 “Yeah? No shit.” The other officer grabs his radio from her waistband to report back to her superiors. “We have her now, sir.”

 The voice is a different man’s voice this time, and this voice sounds satisfied with the news. “Report back to HQ immediately.”

 “ Affirmative .”

 After they’ve been given their orders, one of the officers picks up her body while the other one grabs her purse, careful not to leave any evidence behind. Once they retrieve her, they walk back to the SUV, enter the front and back seats respectively, and close the door. The shutting doors signal the driver to pull away from the area, and silence takes over the corner on Jack St. as the vehicle fades away into darkness. 

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City, Missouri.
DATE: ┃February 8th, 1998.
TIME: ┃12:01:04 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “That was a lot easier than it should have been, don’t you think?” A woman’s voice asks.

 “What do you mean?” A man’s voice questions.

 “Our superiors made it out like she was some kind of monster to be wary of, but she didn’t put up that much of a fight.” The woman explains, but she’s interrupted by a man with a thick British accent. “You’re telling me. It was kind of boring . I expected her to scream for her life.” He sneers, obviously disappointed by the lack of suffering. He reaches over and grabs Erica’s chin, gripping it in his hand. “I was looking forward to hearing this pretty thing beg.” He chuckles sinisterly.

 “You're so demented, Demitri, geez.” A fourth voice pipes up; it sounds like a young man — a really young one . 

 “I’m not as demented as Umbrella. I have some sense of self control.” The man with the accent replies, licking his teeth. 

 “I wouldn’t joke about that kind of thing — Umbrella would have your head just for saying that.” The woman says as she turns to notice him let go of the blonde’s chin to move his hand further down, and the woman clears her throat. “I wouldn’t do that , either. Chief Wesker specifically asked us to keep her safe and unharmed .”

 “So what ?” The accented man brushes off the first warning, and the driver up front clears his throat. “Chief Wesker also stated if anyone touches her they’ll lose more than their hands, and there are plenty of people in this vehicle who do not want to piss him off.” The driver says, and the man chooses to withdraw his hand at the second warning, knowing everybody in this vehicle would snitch on him if given the chance. They may be a team, but if they were all at risk because of just one of them they would waste no time tossing the offender to the wolves. “Nevermind…” He murmurs. He also has no interest in pissing off Albert Wesker of all people, so he’ll leave her be — for now .

 “What was that?” The fourth officer inquires, poking fun at his teammate’s fear for Wesker.

 His response reflects the sick man’s cocky and vulgar personality clearly; “I’ll cut out your tongue if you keep talking, boy .” He threatens, irritated by his younger colleague. “If you had done your job properly, we would be on the right course right now. Now we have to get some tranq antidote to make sure your stupidity didn’t kill her.”

 The sound of the voices talking stirs Erica from her drug induced state, and her stomach starts to swirl with an overwhelming nausea. Boom. Boom. Boom. Her head is throbbing, and her heartbeat is pounding against the flesh of her brain. Alongside the sound of voices are the sounds of the Umbrella officers’ heartbeats and pumping blood, and they ignite a burning hunger to start to develop inside of Erica’s stomach. She squints her eyes open just a little so as to not alarm her captors, and through the slit of her eyes she can see that she’s sitting in the middle of two men in the backseat of a vehicle. There’s a man driving and a woman is in the passenger seat. Erica shifts her hands slightly, and she realizes her hands are bound. She shifts her feet and, unfortunately, they’re bound, too. 

 Fuck . 

 Before panic starts to set in, she reminds herself that she can protect herself — quite literally. If she gets hurt, her wounds will just heal instantly. She can escape by pretending to be dead…or she could eAt them all and save herself the hassle. She furrows her brows in pain as her head throbs at the thought. No, that would be stupid. She doesn’t want to reveal her powers to them, so she knows she can’t allow herself to potentially transform into that — that monstrosity . She won’t risk transforming into a Tyrant, because if they report that kind of information back to Umbrella her entire plan is over and she’s screwed.

 “Are you sure she’s supposed to be asleep this whole time?” The young man to her right asks.

 “Oh, trust me, Nick. You used two tranqs so she shouldn’t wake up for a while. ” The driver says. “Quite frankly I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up dead because of you, but I wouldn’t worry about that. That’s Umbrella’s problem.”

 Erica wishes she could punch him in the gonads just for saying that, but she instead turns her attention to the environment outside; she isn’t sure where they’re going or where they’re taking her, but from what she can see there are a bunch of trees. It must be a forest. The terrain is pretty rough, and it feels as if the vehicle is driving along a dirt road. She grits her teeth. She doesn’t know where or why she’s being taken by Umbrella, but she’s not going to be taken anywhere by them — not this time, and not ever again. She feels adrenaline begin to surge through her veins as she gathers up the courage to do something — anything — to save her life. She has to stop Umbrella from destroying Raccoon City, and if she lets herself get captured it will be as if coming here was all for nothing. It would be as if everything she came here to do would be thrown away because of her carelessness .

 The young woman musters herself up and immediately lunges forward into the front seat, reaching her arms forward in an attempt at grabbing the steering wheel and taking her captors by surprise. ‘ What the — she was supposed to be unconscious!’ They all think amongst the panic before they come to their senses and begin trying to restrain her. Erica reaches further into the front seat until she catches a firm grip on the wheel. Even though she consumed alcohol and had been drugged, their attempts to subdue her are proven useless against her virus induced strength. She violently jerks the steering wheel side to side, forcing the vehicle to drive over a nearby hill and propel into the air. Erica looks up to see a group of large trees coming closer and closer into view, and she squeezes her eyes shut. 

 “Shit!” The driver exclaims, and the other passengers scream. Erica braces herself for the impending impact, and the next thing she knows is the sound of glass shattering as everything goes black.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Arklay Mountains, Raccoon City Forest.
DATE: ┃February 8th, 1998.
TIME: ┃12:17:34 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

  Hisssssss . 

 The sound of a hissing engine causes Erica to regain her consciousness and she slowly blinks her eyes open, grunting in pain at the sensation of an excruciating migraine pounding against her brain. Her body throbs as she starts to move her limbs and, as she lifts her head to look around, she quickly notices that she’s no longer inside of the now crashed SUV. She’s lying on the forest floor in front of the vehicle, covered in head to toe with blood — her blood . She immediately reaches up to touch her face and head with her now freed hands, and when she pulls them away they’re completely soaked with blood. The smell of iron stings her nostrils, and her stomach churns at the sight of all of it coming from her head. She glances up at the windshield of the SUV and notices that there’s a large gaping hole in the middle of the glass; she realizes she must have flown through the windshield in the crash. 

 Erica stands and stumbles as she steps over to the SUV, and when she peers inside she notices that the passengers are out cold. She can still hear their heartbeats, so they’re still alive. After acknowledging this, she carefully and quietly opens one of the doors to start searching for her purse. She doesn’t want to potentially leave any evidence behind — even if these people probably already know who she is. She finds her purse with ease and reaches over an unconscious officer, staring him in the face to make sure he doesn’t wake up as she retrieves her belongings. Luckily for all of the Umbrella officers in the vehicle, they survived the crash and simply got knocked out. If Erica can have the same kind of luck she’ll be able to slip away from them and start heading back into town. Nobody has to get hurt, and she can pretend as if the whole thing never happened. Easy as 1-2-3. 

 Once she collects her purse, she immediately takes off running in the opposite direction of the vehicle. As she runs away from the scene, a million questions run through her head. Why did she let this happen? How could she have let this happen? She knows why; she let herself slip up and get too comfortable, but why exactly is Umbrella so intent on capturing her again? Are they aware of who and what she really is? What do they have planned for her? Her eyes water as she questions herself, but she wipes them away and sniffles; she reminds herself that she’s okay — she got away . She took the initiative and threw herself into danger to save herself and, although the choice was kind of stupid, it saved her life. 

 “Officer Kibb, are you there?”

 Wesker leans back in his seat after speaking into the microphone, becoming irritated by the lack of answers from the other line. It was only moments ago that he and Birkin lost contact with the extraction team, and they are becoming concerned with each minute that passes by. There shouldn’t be any issues bringing this woman back to the NEST facility, so why has it taken the team this long to return? Why has the other line on the radio gone silent? 

 “Have you checked their location?” William asks, wondering if the team might be making an unauthorized pitstop. Following the suggestion, Wesker pulls up the tracker on the SUV and finds that they are in the Arklay Mountains. The extraction team is halfway between the entrance of Raccoon Forest and the Arklay Lab Facility, but why is that? Why did they head in that direction? They were supposed to report back to the NEST facility, so why did they take the route to a completely different facility? “Hm. How odd. They’re in between the Arklay facility and the edge of Raccoon City.” He replies.

 “Why would they be there?” William questions.

 “I’m not quite sure, but it looks like they’re not moving.”

  Groan .

 The driver is the first to wake up from the accident, and he immediately takes note of the broken windshield covered with blood. He turns around to look in the backseat and realizes that his team’s abductee is missing, and based off of the smashed windshield she must have gone through it in the crash. Damn . ‘Well, she’s definitely dead now.’ He thinks to himself before he turns to the woman in the passenger seat and shakes her, hoping she’ll wake. After a few moments the other officer awakens, and her eyes frantically scan around the vehicle before they land on the driver. She furrows her brows as she notices the scene before her, and she frowns. “What the hell happened?”

 “Well, it appears Chief Wesker’s favorite little subject decided to crash the car to save herself, but she ended up killing herself instead.” He can’t help but chuckle at the thought of the impending ass handing they’ll have to face when they get back to Headquarters. “Oh, he’s going to have our asses for sure.” He jokes, and the woman rolls her eyes. “With that attitude? Definitely.” She turns around and starts shaking the other two Umbrella officers, and after a few shakes they rouse. They’re just as confused as the first two officers were when they woke, trying to recollect their thoughts and the events that happened prior to their unconsciousness. “Did we crash?” The young man asks, and the driver confirms. “Yep, and our target is dead…” He sighs.

 “And I didn’t get to kill her? What kind of shit is that?” The other man complains, grunting as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Well, let’s retrieve her body then, shall we? We have to bring something back to that bastard Wesker.”

 All four of them exit the vehicle, and as they search around the SUV they quickly realize that their target’s body is nowhere to be found. This causes a wave of bewilderment to wash over every one of their bodies; could it be possible for that woman to have gotten up and walked away? No, it can’t be — she should be dead ! Nobody should be able to survive flying through a windshield, much less right into a large tree. It’s evident by the blood dripping down from the bark that the woman’s body collided with the tree. This causes the youngest of the group, Nick Farlin, to start feeling anxious. “Uh, guys? Isn’t there supposed to be a body around here somewhere?”

 Demitri Sorokin, the oldest and most deranged of the team, scoffs. “Of course there is, you imbecile .”

 “Then why isn’t it here ?” The woman of the team, otherwise known as Harley Witaker, asks. “I don’t know…” The driver and leader of the team, Johnathan Kibb, mumbles to himself. What the hell is going on? Why is there no body present? Where is their target, and more importantly, the target’s body ? It’s just not possible for someone to live through a traumatic accident like that and get up like nothing happened. 

 “Her purse is gone…” Nick says as he inspects the vehicle, and he turns to his teammates. “Do you think she got away?”

 “No, don’t be ridiculous.” Harley laughs, “Dead people don’t just get up and walk away.”

 “Who said she was dead?” Demitri questions, and Johnathan turns his attention towards him. “Do you seriously believe someone can fly through a windshield and survive with minimal injuries?” 

 “I didn’t say I believe it, but it’s obvious that if she was dead her body would be here or at the very least close by.” Demitri retorts, “I think we should search the area. She couldn’t have gone far.”

 After the words leave the other man’s mouth, Jonathan starts to consider that it might actually be possible that this woman got away unscathed — but he doubts it. If she managed to survive, there’s no way she would have gotten very far; she would have succumbed to her injuries before she ever got back to safety. Considering that their target has clearly escaped, the leader of the team finalizes his decision. “You’re right.” He states, “I want all of you to split up and be on the lookout for anyone in the area, but be careful. It’s easy to get lost in these woods.”

 Erica is currently wandering aimlessly through the ocean of trees, confused as to where she’s even going. The blood on her body has started to dry, causing uncomfortable chafes against her skin. Leaves crinkle and crack beneath her boots as she walks through the dark woodlands, and she clutches her purse’s strap in hopes to bring comfort to the situation. Even though this isn’t the first time Erica has been kidnapped, it still rattles her to her core that even after gaining superhuman abilities she wasn’t able to prevent her capture in the first place. However, she was able to get away — crashing a car in order to do so. Although it was a stupid and crazy thing to do, it ignited a sense of hope inside of her. This hope makes her believe she’ll have a chance of getting away from this place scot free; a sense of hope that quickly dissipates when the sounds of voices and leaves crinkling underneath footsteps catches her ears. Panic quickly sets in and she runs faster in hopes to find somewhere to hide before she’s spotted. 

 Eventually she finds herself in front of a giant structure — an old, abandoned building that appears to have been deserted for a while; a long time as a matter of fact. Vines and other greenery alike have overgrown along the structure while doors and windows hang off their rusted hinges. A howling wind can be heard baying from inside the building. It’s no paradise, but it might be a decent place for her to hide until she can lose her pursuers. 

 After she crawls through a hole in an old fence she runs up to the entrance. However, something other than the noises of chase tickles her ear drums. She pauses, trying to register what she just heard. ‘That sounds like — ’ She starts to think before her thought is interrupted by the yell of an officer and the flicker of a flashlight. She doesn’t waste any time and takes off inside, rushing into an open area. The smell of the room is overwhelming; dust stings her nostrils, and the scent of decay and rotting interior makes her stomach gurgle with nausea. It makes her want to vomit, but she covers her mouth to keep from anything coming back up. She swallows her bile and shudders in disgust when she happens to notice a large, aged portrait of an old man across from her. 

 Erica approaches it and on the plaque below it is the name ‘James Marcus’ — one of Umbrella’s original founders. Alongside Oswell Spencer, Erica is aware of two other accomplices in the forging of the Umbrella Corporation; Oswell Spencer, James Marcus and another man named Edward Ashford. They founded Umbrella to help better the human race and free it from diseases and plagues. Oswell took this quite literally, and he decided to divulge a plan to create the perfect superhuman race, free from both of those things — including death. Marcus and Ashford simply wanted to use their skills and studies to assist others in curing and preventing diseases, but their views were too different from Spencer’s, leading to their ultimate assassinations that were seen as ‘terrible accidents.’ That didn’t mean Marcus was exempt from his own disgusting actions — he was sacrificing his own employees for experiments. Karma was bound to come for him sooner or later.

 She takes a quick look at the portrait. ‘ Even Umbrella’s own people will turn against each other if they’re desperate enough .’ She supposes before taking off to find somewhere to hide. 

 “She ran in here! I saw her!” Demitri calls, ushering the rest of the team to hurry up.

 “Maybe you’re just seeing things.” Johnathan retorts, stepping into the room and scrunching his nose in revulsion at the stench. 

 “God, it smells disgusting in here.” Harley gags as she enters, covering her mouth and nose.

 “ No , I know what I saw . That little bitch ran in here .” Demitri sneers; his blood thirst is building by the minute, and he won’t hold it back for much longer. He wants to get his hands on that woman and give her what she deserves — a violent death . It’s been ages since he’s been able to kill a pretty thing like her, and who cares if ‘Chief’ Wesker favors her? Nobody cares about his whore .

 “Why would she run into this old place?” Nick questions. “ Ugh! It’s rank in here.”

 “Why else , dipshit? Obviously to hide.” Demitri grunts in irritation. He sniffs the air, taking a big whiff. “It smells like death and decay. I like it .”

 “Alright, team. Split up and look around. She couldn’t have gotten too far.” Johnathan says as he investigates the dimly lit room. He furrows his brows as he questions his environment; why are there lights on? There hasn’t been anybody in this facility in ages as far as he knows, much less any power to the building. It’s possible some of the homeless in the area took refuge here, but he doubts it. Even the homeless aren’t desperate enough to sleep in this creepy place. 

 Erica overhears the Umbrella officers’ exchange and she feels her heart pound faster and faster as their footsteps ease closer to her hiding spot. She tiptoes quietly in the other direction, holding her breath as she evades their detection. She makes it a few rooms over and down a flight of stairs before she starts to feel her stomach tighten on itself, clenching and unclenching vigorously. Her heart pounds faster and faster until an immense heat envelops the inside of her chest, and she gasps as her head starts to throb with an intense pulsating noise persistently ringing in her ears. Needles stab into every inch of her skin while knives dig around the inside of her body, slicing and dicing her organs with maliciousness. Her eyes start to water as the agonizing pain takes over her body, and she clutches her head. Her purse falls to the floor, and her items fall out onto the floor. This catches the attention of Harley nearby and the woman pauses for a moment, standing in place to listen and make sure she wasn’t just hearing things.

 Erica’s skin starts to change to a purple-blue hue, and the veins underneath her skin darken. Her hands and feet then transition from a purple-blue hue to that of a dark red one as strands of her hair fall from between her fingers, burning away as they touch the floor. They continue to fall until there’s nothing left on her head, and tendrils immediately begin to grow forth from the surface of her head’s skin, replacing her locks of hair with hair-like tendrils. A long, whipping tail forms behind her, and at the very tip of it is a sharpened bone; a sharpened bone that can pierce through flesh with ease. Her nails begin to grow, extending long and thick enough that she can slide and dice whatever she pleases. Her clothes and shoes rip and tear, falling to the floor in pieces as she transforms.

 The transformation causes Erica to let out a monstrous howl that is loud enough to alert the agents nearby, and Nick picks up his radio, panicked at the sound that echoed through the old facility. 

 “Did you guys hear that?” He whispers before letting go of the call button.

 Wesker and William happen to be listening in on the station, and they immediately call in to the team’s radios at the sound of an agent’s voice. “ Kibb, Whitaker, Sorokin, Farlin — where are you and what is going on? Why have you derailed from your objective? Your objective was to capture the subject and return to the NEST. Why are you in the Arklay Mountains on your way to the Arklay Laboratory?” Wesker demands, furrowing his brows in irritation as he waits for an answer.

 Johnathan reports to his superior, “Sorry, sir. We have no excuses for our insubordination, but right now we are pursuing the target. She woke up and crashed the van.” 

  Wesker and William share a look with one another; William appears confused while Wesker is giving William an old fashioned ‘I told you so’ expression. Wesker knew he was right about Erica — there’s more to her than meets the eye. William is flabbergasted at the information they were just given; What do they mean she ‘crashed the van?’ Didn’t they use tranquilizers? She should have been unconscious for the entire trip. What exactly are they doing wrong that caused this mission to go sideways? Were Wesker’s suspicions about Erica correct all along? “Where are you now?” William questions.

 “We pursued her into the company’s old training facility.” Johnathan replies as he heads in the direction of the howl. 

 “The old training facility… hm …” Wesker hums to himself in thought; that facility hasn’t been functional in over a decade. How did they manage to track her down to this exact facility? Did she just happen to come across it or did she know it was there? No, there’s no way she would have known it was there. He’s just being paranoid is all. He hasn’t exactly been himself ever since she came around. He decides to ignore his thoughts and instead speaks up into the microphone. “What’s the situation?”

 “The subject is hiding from us, but I’m sure whatever’s here with us might find her before we do. There was some kind of monster-like howl just a few moments ago. We’re heading towards the sound to investigate what it is now.” Harley speaks into her radio, and the response puzzles Wesker and William. 

 “A ‘monster-like howl?’ What could that possibly be?” William ponders, and Wesker leans back in his chair. “I…don’t know. As far as I’m aware, there shouldn’t be any leftover specimens. Even if there were, they certainly would have died off by now.”

 “Should we instruct them to get rid of any bio-waste?” William inquires.

 “That’s not exactly what this mission is for, but these men are expendable. What’s one team, right?” Wesker chuckles before he presses the button to contact the team.

 “It’s possible there might be some bio-waste lurking in the area. Keep an eye out and eliminate any threats.” He pauses before adding something, “And ensure that you capture the subject. I want her alive and unharmed . Do I make myself clear?”

 “Affirmative.” Johnathan replies. ‘Jesus, Wesker sure is obsessed with this woman.’ He thinks, shaking his head before he and his team start heading in the direction of the howl. He wonders what kind of creature they’ll come across, but he also hopes they won’t come across any at all. This was supposed to be an extraction mission — not an eradication. His teams’ lives aren’t worth the hassle of one young woman.

 Unbeknownst to the team of Umbrella officers, Erica has slithered her way up the walls and to the ceilings. She’s lurking around in the darkness, spying on each and every officer as they search for her. The smell of their skin and the sound of their pumping blood urges her hunger to grow, igniting her cravings to burn more and more until she can’t take it anymore. Her teeth sharpen as her long, extending tongue slides over her lips. 

 She observes the group one by one and ultimately decides to go for the smallest and youngest one first. He’s an easier target, and she wants to EaT aN aPpEtIzEr before she deals with the rest of them. After all, iT’s BeEn A lOnG tImE sInCe ShE’s HaD a GoOd MeAl.

 The sound of her claws digging into the metal and sheetrock above makes Nick feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he shines his flashlight in the direction of the noise. He doesn’t see anything, and a lump forms in his throat as a growing fear clutches his stomach, tightening by the second when he notices some flakes fall from above. He takes a step backwards and gasps when something wraps around his torso. He screams as he’s lifted towards the ceiling, and Erica leans her head back before she sinks her teeth into the flesh of his neck. His screams are cut short; replaced by gurgling as blood seeps from where his throat once was. She excitedly chews the squishy meat, and she hums as it travels down her throat. Warm blood trickles down her body, and she licks her lips in satisfaction after she swallows. MmM … yUmMy!

 As she starts aggressively feasting on his body, other members of the team begin rushing towards his location. “Nick, what happened?!” Harley questions on the radio, but there’s no answer. 

 Erica can hear them coming closer and closer as she devours their teammate. Panic starts to set in as they don’t get an answer from the other line of the radio. What’s going on? What happened to Nick? Why is he not answering? Is he alright? Wesker and William are listening intently, and they hold their breath in anticipation as they wait for an answer from their youngest officer. Nothing. 

 Erica slurps up the last bit of her meal before she drops the remains onto the floor with a splat! She stares at the body for a moment; she feels a twinge of empathy for him, but it doesn’t last but for a second. He did it to himself by getting involved. He shouldn’t have picked the wRoNg SiDe . She turns and crawls through a doorway and into another room, keeping herself in the dark and out of view. 

 Harley is the first to find Nick’s body — er well, what was left of it — and she covers her mouth in disgust, trying to prevent herself from vomiting onto the floor. It’s useless, however, and she spews bile onto the mold and roach infested floors. Ugh . She shines her light on the body again, and her mouth hangs open. “What the fuck ?”

 The body is nearly stripped of all of its flesh from its torso, exposing remnants of guts and organs alike. The throat has been ripped out, and Harley surmises that that must have been when he stopped screaming. He was completely mauled to death by — by something ! There’s something lurking around in this place, and if it killed one team member, chances are it will likely kill another one. Demitri is the next to run up to Harley and discover the horrific imagery, and his eyes widen. Even for a man as twisted as him — something as horrific as this makes his stomach gurgle with revulsion. Something like this just isn’t natural. How could a human being’s ribcage and insides be ripped out in such little time, much less caved in? 

 “ Jesus .”

 “What happened?” Johnathan approaches the gruesome scene, and he steps back in shock at the sight. “ What the hell ? What the fuck did this to him?”

 “I-I don’t know…but I have a feeling it might do the same thing to us if we’re not careful.” Harley frowns.

 Many different kinds of giggles echo through the room; deep, shrill, nasal, bubbly, innocent, seductive — many kinds of voices laughing in unison. Men, women, children — the voices are completely indistinguishable. The laughs send shivers down the Umbrella officers’ spines, and Demitri reaches for his gun. “Okay, enough with all this scary shit. I came here to do a job and get paid, not fuck around with monsters.” He grunts, and he starts heading in the direction of where he surmises the source of the voices is coming from. Johnathan and Harley share looks with one another, nodding as a nonverbal agreement that they should all stick together and face whatever this creature might be before they start to follow behind Demitri.

 Demitri steps into a hallway with his gun raised, and he shines his flashlight around every corner he comes across. Sweat starts to drip down his forehead; everything’s fine. He’s just going to find that little bitch, bring her in, and Umbrella can give her a taste of their medicine. He’s gotten over his desires of malevolence in favor of his life, and if he’s here for much longer he probably won’t have a life to favor. He swallows thickly when he hears the ear-splitting screech of nails against metal, and he shines the light of the flashlight in the direction of the noise. He doesn’t see what scratched the wall, but he can see the aftermath of whatever did. Four large claw marks are embedded into the walls, and his heart drops into the pit of his stomach. He’s out of here!

 He immediately starts to take off in the opposite direction to retreat back to the rest of his team, but before he has the chance something wraps around his neck and hoists him into the air. He gasps for air as it tightens around his throat, and Erica lifts him up towards her face. He can’t see her in the dark, but he can hear the sinister laugh that leaves her lips. He wants to scream, but the hold on his neck is too great and nothing comes out. The next words that come from her mouth make him want to shit himself. “‘I expected you to scream for your life.’” Demitri’s own voice comes from Erica’s lips, imitating him. “ ThAt’S wHaT yOu SaId, WaSn’T iT? ” She asks, and his eyes widen. That’s his voice — that’s his voice . In realization of the words spoken, he coughs as he struggles to breathe. He remembers saying those words back in the SUV before they crashed, and he remembers who he referred to. This thing is the woman they kidnapped…and she was awake the entire time. Oh, fuck him .

 Erica buries her elongated nails into his abdomen, twisting them as she rips out a chunk of his flesh. She exposes his guts and intestines, and she smiles grimly as pieces of him drip and fall to the floor below. “ Shame … I eXpEcTeD yOu To Do ThE sAmE. ” 

 After the words leave her mouth, his life is ripped away from his body and his last breath slips past his blood stained lips. Once he passes, she starts indulging herself into his remains while his other teammates start searching for him, calling his name as they descend deeper and deeper into the facility. A cold wind blows past them and goosebumps form on Harley’s arms. “I have a bad feeling about this.” She shudders. “Where is Demitri?”

 “You aren’t the only one.” Johnathan agrees before glancing around the area for their now missing colleague. He was just up ahead of them, and now he’s gone? “I thought he was ahead of us.” 

 “I thought he was, too.” Harley swallows, fearing the worst when they enter an open area and still no sign of Demitri. The two remaining officers break away to start searching opposite areas of the room. 

 Erica isn’t far behind, dropping her recent meal’s body and following the duo’s voices and heartbeats. She licks her teeth, sucking the blood and fleshy residue from them as she enters the room the other two officers are in. She targets Harley first, and she crawls across the ceiling towards her direction. Her tail sways back and forth as she lowers it towards the woman, and she uses the sharpened tip of her tail to impale Harley right through her chest, causing a groan of pain to exit the Umbrella officer’s mouth. Erica lifts her off of the ground, and as Harley’s body is lifted into the air Johnathan whips his head around to shine his flashlight on the scene.

 “Holy shit .” He mutters, and Erica makes eye contact with him. Her eyes burn into his skull, and if he had eaten something earlier he’s sure he probably would have shit his pants and thrown up at the same time. What is that? What the fuck is that? If the creature’s appearance isn’t demonic and monstrous enough, its body is completely soaked in blood from head to toe — presumably Nick’s and Demitri’s — and is currently impaling his colleague, adding another team member onto the entity’s kill count. This monster killed his entire team, and he sure as hell isn’t going to be the next one. Erica grabs hold of Harley’s limbs and violently rips her body into pieces before dropping the remains to the ground. The sound of her flesh ripping apart echoes through the room, and bile forms in the back of Johnathan’s throat at the sight. Oh God.  

 Now intent on capturing the remaining Umbrella officer before he can escape, Erica hisses at him and exposes her teeth. This encourages him to take off running and he grabs his radio from his waistband, panic and anxiety filling his lungs. 

 “There’s some kind of-of demon in this place!” Johnathan yells into the speaker, causing Wesker and William to jump in their seats in surprise. “It-It killed my whole team! It ate them and ripped them apart!”

 “What does it look like? Can you describe it?” William questions, eager to know what creature has eliminated the majority of the extraction team. Even if it means this man might die, they need to know what they’re dealing with before they send anyone else.

 “It looked like a human, but it doesn’t look like any human I’ve ever seen! I-I don’t know what the fuck it is!” Johnathan pants, turning the corner to find Demitri’s body. He gags in disgust, turns, and runs in the opposite direction. “I need reinforcements!”

 “A humanoid…” Wesker murmurs to himself. How is that possible? How is it possible a humanoid monster is inside of that facility? Could it be one of their disposed Tyrants? No…they would be aware of such a thing. He furrows his brows at the mention of reinforcements; there’s no need for any of that right now. Right now they need to focus on what they’re dealing with. “Where are you now?”

 “I’m — ” Johnathan is cut off before he can answer, and silence takes over the other line. The bizarre occurrence makes Wesker contact the officer again. “What happened?!” He demands, but there’s no response. He and William glance at one another, and William speaks up. “Officer Kibb, what is the situation?!”

 The crackle of the radio gets Erica’s attention, and she lifts her head from the remaining Umbrella officer’s backside to stare at the radio in his hand. He cries in agony as he tries to hold onto the radio, and she rips it out of his hands. Her trance-like state makes her eye it for a while as blood drips from her chin, and she swallows the remaining blood in her mouth, smacking her lips at the taste of iron coating her tongue. She clears her throat and leans down to whisper in the officer’s ear. “ You should’ve left me alone .”

 “What do you want?” He pathetically sobs as snot gathers in his nostrils and sweat beads down his face. Emotionless, she answers. “ I wAnT yOu To DiE. ” With that she uses her free hand to grab the hair from his head, yanks his head back, and sinks her teeth into his throat. She rips off the flesh with ease, and his scream is cut off and replaced by the sound of gurgling before it goes silent. She swallows, and her lip curls in disgust as she drops his head to the floor with a thud . 

 Erica turns her attention back towards the radio in her hand. She presses the call button, and she licks her lips.

 “♪Your officer is dead…♪” She says in a sing-song voice before she giggles.

 The response makes Wesker’s and William’s eyes widen in terror and confusion; the voice on the other line sounds like it came straight from the depths of Hell. What is that? Whatever or whoever it is killed their entire extraction team, and they are intent on finding out who and what it could be. “ Who are you ?” William orders, and they are met with silence once again. A moment later, they hear the sound of white noise from the other line. The button to communicate has been pressed, but the other line is completely silent.

 “...”

 Erica crushes the radio in the palm of her hand, watching as the electronic parts and plastic pieces fall to the floor. She stands there in silence, eyeing the pieces until something in the corner catches her attention. It’s a dark, weird looking creature that is inching towards her. She tilts her head in confusion, and as it approaches her feet, it lifts itself to expose a bunch of teeth. She can sense that it’s infected with the T-Virus, and it can sense she is, too. She isn’t sure what it is but whatever it is — it doesn’t like her — for it screeches at her angrily and jumps in her direction in an attempt to attack. Upon the creature jumping in her direction, an irritation stirs in Erica’s stomach and a word slips past her lips.

 “ Die .” 

 In response the small monster squeals loudly, immediately falling to the ground and combusting into a ball of flames. Then, it stops burning and its remains instantly dissolve into ash. She stares at the dead monster, and she curiously tilts her head while her tail sways in excitement at its shrill scream. 

 After silence settles in the facility, her body hunches over and she lets out a long groan, falling to her knees as she begins reverting back to her human form. Her nails, tail, and tendrils retract back into her body, and her long, white hair grows back healthier and shinier than ever. Her skin changes back to its original cool tone, and she shudders as the cold air of the facility touches her naked body. Blood still lingers on the tip of her tongue, and her eyes widen at the realization that she’s completely covered in it. That doesn’t even begin to touch on the realization of what she’s just done — she just killed an entire team of officers, and she ripped them all apart. She lost control of herself, and that’s exactly what she’s been so afraid of this whole time. She didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

 Her eyes start to water as she spots the deceased officer’s body, and her lower lip trembles when she sees how mutilated he is. She covers her mouth to prevent her recent meal from coming back up, and she begins walking back to the room containing her destroyed clothes and purse. She just needs to get back home, take a shower, and go to bed. Yeah, that’s right. She’s just going to go back home and pretend this whole thing never happened, just like she planned. She was never here.

 Once she gathers her belongings, she starts smelling the air in an attempt to find her way back to the entrance — or at the very least find another way out of this place and back to the city. Hopefully she can keep herself away from being seen and avoid the possibility of being arrested for a multitude of reasons. She decides to tie the remainder of her pants around her waist before doing the same with her shirt around her bust in an attempt to cover up while she looks for a way out. Little does she know, however, that her entire journey through the facility had been watched by an entity that’s been lurking in the shadows for a long time. A long time that’s going to come to an end pretty soon…

 Thunder and lightning gather in the skies above once she makes it out of the building, and rain starts to pour down onto her semi-nude body as she trudges through the forest. At least the rain will wash some of the blood off. Hopefully she can get home without any problems.

 Wesker and William are sitting in their chairs stumped and confused. What just happened? Did they just have an encounter with a speaking experiment? Did their entire extraction team just get killed off one by one? Did their potential test subject get killed in the onslaught? What in the world is going on? Who killed their officers — no — what killed their officers? 

 More importantly… what happened to Erica ?

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃February 8th, 1998.
TIME: ┃4:48:02 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After Erica’s encounter with the Umbrella officers, she successfully made it back to town and back to her apartment building without causing any suspicion or alarm. Once she made it back to her building however, she realized she unfortunately couldn’t go in through the main entrance. She was naked and covered in blood after all, and God only knew what would have happened if someone saw her like that. She ultimately decided to go around the building and climb up the fire escape instead, and after she located the right floor she entered her apartment through her bedroom window. Its reason for being unlocked was unbeknownst to her since she usually locked it, but she was glad her forgetfulness worked in her favor. After she was inside her apartment she put all of her bloody garments into a garbage bag before she dumped all of the items from her purse and tossed it as well. She then took a shower, changed into some brand new clothes, and found a place to sit in her living room. Ever since then she’s done nothing but sit on the couch and stare at her front door, waiting for Umbrella to come and finish the job they started. 

 In the early hours of the morning Erica killed four people and ate three of them, adding more victims to the list of lives she’s taken. She didn’t want to, but she was forced to act. She didn’t want to do any of those sick, disgusting things, but she did . She killed them all, and the screams and sounds of death that came from the Umbrella officers still echo in the back of her mind. If that isn’t enough, the smell of their blood still lingers on her skin and the taste of their flesh still coats her tongue. She scrubbed her skin as hard as she could to get the smell out, but nothing she did could rid her skin of the bloody aroma. She brushed her teeth over ten times, but the taste just won’t go away.

 The thought of taking those peoples’ lives has taken an emotional and mental toll on her, but physically she feels fantastic — even better than she has in the last eight months. Her senses are stronger than before, and every breath that she takes feels like a breath of fresh air. She can hear things clearer, and her cravings for human flesh have seemingly subsided. Well, for now. There’s no telling when her cravings will come back for more, and there’s no telling what she might do next. A rush of energy and power courses through her veins and she feels like she can do anything she wants, but that’s just what she’s afraid of. She feels like she has more power than she actually knows, and she got only a small taste of what could simply be a fraction of her abilities during her blood-lust filled attack. She was able to imitate one of the officers’ voices and completely obliterated a team of skilled mercenaries, and that doesn’t even begin to touch on the T-Virus infected creature she killed just by commanding it to die. It burned from the inside out and died just because she said it so. 

 …Just what kind of monstrosities is she exactly capable of?

 Erica grits her teeth; she’s remorseful that she killed those people, but it had to be done. They kidnapped her and tried to take her back to one of Umbrella’s facilities, and she wasn’t going to let it happen. She wasn’t going to win the situation whether she killed them or not.

 The sounds of the outside world make her take her eyes off the door and shift her gaze to the window. She’s been on watch practically all day, and if Umbrella was going to come back for her they definitely would have come back by now. Or at the very least they would have sent someone to come clean out her apartment and make it seem like she moved or was never even here at all, but she just might be in luck today. The chances that Umbrella will send another team after her are likely — she knows if they’ll try to kidnap her once they’ll definitely try to do it again — but right now she feels like she can finally rest instead of being on edge. She sucks in a breath as she stands and walks over to her front door, taking a peek through the peephole. She might as well take one last paranoid look before she allows herself to finally relax. As she presses her eye against the peephole, she sighs in relief when she sees nothing and slumps her back against the door’s surface. 

 She swallows thickly. She sincerely hopes that she isn’t linked back to the Training Facility, and if she plays it cool everything will be fine. Maybe Umbrella will think their officers picked the wrong woman and she can get off scot-free. She bites her lower lip anxiously, unsure of what to do. What is she supposed to do here? Is she in over her head? Is she ready for something like this? Is she strong enough to save Raccoon City? How could she be when it’s clear she’s only capable of destruction? Before her negative thoughts and paranoia have a chance to plague her mind again like they have all day, her intuition starts to pull at her mind. It’s pulling her attention towards her guest bedroom door down the hall. 

 Erica walks over to the door and opens it, flicking on the light to take a look around. Her eyes land on the drawer cabinet sitting next to her reading chair. She walks over to it and presses a hidden button on the bottom, and a secret compartment slides out containing the items Erica arrived in Raccoon City with. Among the many items in her possession, she ogles the thin Umbrella emblazoned binder before removing it from the compartment. She returns to the living room and plops down onto the couch, staring solemnly at the red and white logo. At the top is a sticker with her experiment number — the same number that brands her back. 

 If she reads these files again, maybe she’ll find out what exactly happened to her during Umbrella’s many experiments. She remembers the experiments just like they were yesterday of course, but she doesn’t remember or recall what strains were used in the experiments, nor does she know what happened to her after she fell into an unexplainable coma. She purses her lips in consideration as she stares at it. 

 If she reads this, maybe she’ll find out if there’s a cure for whatever viruses are inside of her. Maybe she can find out how to help herself…and possibly find out how to be prepared for the worst. She sucks in a breath before opening it.

 The experiment entries are accompanied by many different pictures of Erica during her captivity; she’s either cowering in the corner, lying on a metal framed bed staring blankly into blaring lights above, or floating around naked in a cryogenic tube. There are even pictures of her prior to Umbrella’s capture, including a couple of her outside Emmy’s Diner with Chris and a few of her having a Girls’ Night with Jill. She can’t help but rub her thumb over the pictures, quietly reminiscing about the both of them for a moment before looking through the rest of the contents. Each entry gives her more and more troubling information, making her relive her awful memories as she reads through them.

 After reading through the binder, she gently closes it. She sits there in silence, taking in the data entries and pictures that came with them. Her eyes start to water, and tears begin to trickle down her cheeks as she stares off into space with a stoic expression. The revelations she’s left with are dark, troubling ones; Erica thought she was exposed to just one virus, but she thought wrong. Not only was she experimented on with the T-Virus but four other virus strains — including the G-Virus — a much deadlier and more dangerous strain than the T-Virus and any of its predecessors. It’s shocking enough to know that the G-Virus didn’t mutate her into something incomprehensible, but what happened after the virus resuscitated her makes her skin crawl. 

 Umbrella tasked Wesker and Birkin to recreate the results of her experimentation through her blood, and in doing so they caused innocent civilians to discover that the world around them as they knew it wasn’t real. Meaning, anytime her blood came in contact with anyone else’s they were exposed to the truth. To make matters worse, when she believed she had finally escaped being their lab-rat, Birkin continued to test on her without the help of Wesker. He was possibly considering throwing her out to a different facility to use, but based on the date mentioned in the last data entry — she knows he didn’t get the chance to. Based on Erica’s knowledge of the games and her own experiences, she knows that September 23rd, 1998 is the date that Birkin injects himself with the G-Virus and causes Raccoon City’s water supply to get contaminated with the T-Virus. She also knows that she has only eight months left to stop him from doing that; eight months left to stop him from killing thousands and causing the fall of Raccoon City.

 She purses her lips before she returns to her guest bedroom to put the binder back up, sealing the contents of the drawer cabinet away from the naked eye once again. She walks over to the door, flicks off the light, and shuts the door behind her. She leans her back against it, and after a moment she slides down to the floor. Her buttocks touches the cold, hard-wood floor, and her eyes fill with tears again.

 Erica is completely in over her head, and she has absolutely no idea what she’s doing. When she first started this mission she decided to go undercover and do things the safe and easy way, but she doesn’t know any special skills or have the knowledge necessary to work undercover — she’s just been winging it this entire time. She’s not the most intelligent person in the room, and she feels like so far it’s really shown. Her decision to take the pacifist route felt like the morally right thing to pick because she didn’t want to kill or hurt anybody — she just wanted to save Raccoon City without resorting to violence. Unfortunately, it’s too late for that; she ended up diving head first into obliterating whatever stands in her way and now she’s going to stick to it, even if it means she’ll have to get her hands dirty. She might dread every second of it, but it doesn’t mean she won’t do what has to be done.

 She also may not have a single clue what she’s doing, but if she’s patient enough the right opportunity will fall right into her lap. The kidnapping last night was just a simple setback, but she’ll be okay. Umbrella clearly doesn’t think she got away or else they would have broken into her apartment in search of her by now. Even if they came back for her, she won’t need to worry about her safety. She was tranquilized, kidnapped, crashed a car, survived said car crash, and killed and or ate a bunch of people last night; she’s pretty positive that she can handle herself just fine. 

 After reassuring herself, Erica wipes her face clean from her tears and stands up. She takes a deep breath and walks into her bedroom. She climbs into her bed and crawls underneath her thick, comfortable covers. 

 Everything’s going to be okay. She’s got this. She’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep, and everything will all blow over. Everything will be just like normal.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃███.
DATE: ┃█ ███, ████.
TIME: ┃█:██:██ ██.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 A putrid smell invades Erica’s nostrils, and her nose curls at the awful scent. She sits up to cover her nose and mouth in disgust, gagging at the strong odor of human excrement and urine. Ugh …where is she, and why does it smell like literal shit and piss? She takes a look around and notices that she’s in some kind of sewer system, and her stomach gurgles as bile threatens to come up. She wants to vomit, but her attention is quickly brought elsewhere when a deep feeling clutches her stomach. Her body becomes hot with worry, and she swallows anxiously. Something is down here in the sewers with her…and it’s not human. The sound of a voice catches her ears and, for some odd reason, it sounds a lot like Sherry’s voice. But why would Sherry be down here of all places? What is going on? Is Erica having lucid dreams again? She takes a few steps forward before her heart sinks into the pit of her stomach. 

 Her suspicions that she isn’t alone are confirmed when the roar of a monster echoes through the sewer — “ SSSHHHEEERRRYYY!!! ”  

 The horrific sound is immediately followed by the shrill sound of a little girl’s scream. “ AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! ”

 Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Erica’s neck stand up and she begins running in the direction of the noise. Screams and growls echo through the area, urging her to run faster. Anger and adrenaline surges through her veins once she comes upon the scene; Sherry is backing away in fear as a giant, horrific creature approaches her. The right side of its body is large in muscle mass and displays a large protruding, bonelike structure from its right arm with many eyeballs that stare the little girl down. Erica takes a closer look at the mutated beast, and once she notices the remnants of what look to be clothes, her eyes widen. This is supposed to be William Birkin after he injected himself with the G-Virus, but that isn’t possible. Not yet at least. This hasn’t happened yet, it hasn’t happened —

 Her thoughts are interrupted when Sherry spots her, and a sense of relief washes over the poor, terrified girl. It’s Miss Erica! Thank goodness ! She doesn’t know where she is or how she ended up in this dark, stinky place, but before she had a chance to find a way out she was attacked by this monster; a monster that looks somewhat like her daddy…but it isn’t her daddy. It’s far from him. 

 The monster immediately turns its attention towards Erica and it snarls. Instantaneously a gripping pain pulses in her brain, and she stumbles backwards in a daze. A voice emits itself into her thoughts, screeching at her before speaking in a chilling tone.

  GET AWAY FROM HER! SHE’S MINE !

 Erica couldn’t see the other side of the monstrosity’s body before, but now that she does there’s no doubt in her mind that this is William Birkin. Well, it was . The eyeballs on his body ogle her, and for a moment she can hear William calling out to her, calling out for help from within. 

  Help…Me…

 Her empathy takes hold and the words make Erica’s eyes start to water. She knows what it's like to endure through such agony, and she wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy — even if he just so happened to be the one who injected it himself. She quickly pushes her empathy aside to focus on the task at hand: getting this monstrosity away from Sherry. Based on her past experiences with B.O.W.s and even her most recent ones, Erica knows that she has the ability to control them; meaning, she can command it to get away. She could command it to die but she doesn’t want Sherry to witness something as horrific as that, even if the monster attacking her is pretty horrific in and of itself.

 “Come and get me, you ugly piece of shit!” Erica yells, and Sherry’s eyes widen in embarrassment, confusion, and shock. What is Erica doing? Why is she taunting it like that? She’s only going to make it more angry. Does she have a death wish or something? The monster steps forward and growls at Erica. Erica swallows nervously, but she continues to yell profanities despite this grotesque abomination easing closer. “Yeah, I’m talking to you ass-wipe! Who else would I be talking to?” She stands her ground even as it approaches her, firmly holding her feet in place. “ Come and get me mOtHeRfUcKeR ! ” She commands, and her voice distorts as she screams the last obscenity. 

 It’s enough to spur the monster to charge and Sherry helplessly watches on as the monster runs up to Erica and grabs her by the neck. This action causes a raging fire to start burning in Erica’s chest — an anger that makes her eyes glare at the monster. She sneers and hisses at it, showing off her growing sharp teeth. Her nails extend, and she slashes her long talons against the creature’s face, making it holler out in pain. It throws her in Sherry’s direction as it grabs at its face, and her body lands a few feet across from the young girl. Sherry’s eyes immediately fill with tears and she runs over to Erica’s body to make sure she’s okay. 

 She kneels down, and as soon as Sherry sees Erica’s eyes she’s taken aback by the sight. The young woman’s once blue eyes are now glowing, and the whites of her eyes have been replaced by a dark red. Erica looks scary, but she’s definitely not as scary as the monster pursuing the both of them. As the creature regains its composure, it turns towards the two of them and Erica grits her teeth. “Sherry…” She says, prompting the little girl to glance at her with expectancy. 

 “... RuN .” She growls.

 Sherry doesn’t waste any time doing as she’s told, immediately getting up and running off in the opposite direction. Although she’s scared for Erica — at the same time she’s scared of Erica. Why did Erica’s eyes look like that? Why did she have such sharp teeth? Was she turning into a monster? Sherry isn’t given enough time to ask herself any more questions before she spots a doorway with a bright light shining from the other side. A howl from behind her urges her forward, and she shields her eyes as she passes through the doorway.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Birkin Residence.
DATE: ┃February 9th, 1998.
TIME: ┃1:13:25 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

  Tick, tock. Tick, tock .

 The ticks of a clock are the first thing a frightened Sherry can make out when she jolts awake, and when she sits up she looks around. The room is dark, but she instantly recognizes it as her bedroom. Her stuffed animals are still in the corner, and her drawings are still on the walls. Moonlight shines in from the window, illuminating her bed and her stuffed raccoon Randy. 

 ‘So, it was all just a nightmare…’ Sherry thinks as her eyes start to adjust to the darkness. ‘...but why did it feel so real?’ She asks herself. ‘I’ve never had a nightmare like that before…’ 

 Although she knows it was just a nightmare, there’s something in the back of her mind telling her it wasn’t just any old nightmare. It felt like it really happened so it must mean something, but what ? Does it mean something bad is going to happen? Does it mean she’s going to be attacked by some kind of monster that looks like her dad? …Or is her dad going to turn into a monster? She ponders her dream further, and she stares down at her lap. Does it mean Erica is a monster? Is that why she eats blood? Has her babysitter been a horrific monstrosity this entire time? 

 ‘No, that just sounds silly.’ Sherry thinks to herself before laying back down, continuing to think about things. She stares up at her bedroom ceiling for a few moments, chasing around different thoughts and theories in her mind. Why did that dream feel so real? What happened to her dad to make him look like that? Why did Erica’s eyes look like that? She lets out a big sigh and turns over on her side. It’s probably nothing; just her imagination running wild. After all, who would believe that her babysitter is a monster ? 

 In another part of the house, William is frantically tossing and turning in his bed. A groan slips past his lips before he sits up in his bed in a panic, grabbing at himself and wondering what the hell he just dreamed about. What happened to him? Why was he not like himself? Why was it so intense? Why did he feel like it was actually happening? Why was Miss Slater there? Isn’t she supposed to be dead? How was it that she could command him? Why did she start to turn into something inhuman? 

 Questions override his thoughts as he tries to catch his breath, and as soon as he catches it he tries to rationalize what just happened. It’s possible his nightmare was just a manifestation of all that transpired in the last couple of days, and this is how his mind is coping with it. He’s not losing his mind — it’s just his stupid imagination. Yeah, that’s all it is. It’s all in his head.

 Annette groans in her sleep and shifts to a different position, prompting him to run his hands through his sweat covered hair. He sighs and leans back into his mattress before drifting back to sleep.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
TIME: ┃1:21:34 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

  Gasp .

 Sitting up in her bed with a start, Erica begins frantically looking around her bedroom. She sighs with relief once she realizes she’s just in her room — but something isn’t right. The smell of blood fills her nose, and she feels as if she’s going to be sick when she gets a whiff of it. The scent is so thick, but that’s not the only strange thing. There’s a wet sensation coming from underneath the blankets, coating her legs and soaking her comforter, sheets, and mattress. Why does it smell like blood? More importantly, why does it smell like it’s everywhere ? She swallows nervously, anxious as she lifts the blankets and flicks on the lamp next to her bed. Once the room is illuminated — all she sees is red. RED, RED, RED. There’s so much of it covering her bed, seeping into whatever it touches. She screams, confused as to where all this blood came from and terrified as to why there’s so much of it. 

 From the void of neverending crimson, a figure rises up from her bed. Erica’s eyes widen in terror. What is that? What the hell is that? As its form comes to fruition, she recognizes it as the red-skinned monster that told her to return to Racoon City in the first place — the one that started this all — Sol . 

 Sol grins menacingly at her before licking its lips. “Mmm. Yummy .”

 “Wh-What do you want?” Erica asks. “Why are you here ?”

 “I am just here to check in,” Sol extends a clawed hand and she expects it to cut her, but it shortens its claws in order to caress her face. “ And warn you .” It grips her chin, forcing her to look at it. “You will be in jeopardy if you do not wisen up.” It hisses, and its waving tongue slithers out from behind its lips to lick her face. She closes her eyes and her stomach churns in disgust as the pad of its tongue glides up her cheek. 

 “You need to be aware of who is close to you. Pick and choose your friends wisely.” She opens her eyes as it continues to speak, “Pick and choose your prey wisely.” Sol grins. “ Or else I’ll have to take over .” It says before lurching towards her in a gesture to attack, and Erica screams again —

 — only to shoot up in her bed again in complete darkness.

 Tears coat her face, and she pants as she looks around the room in distress. What the hell? What just happened? Did she…Did she just have a nightmare within a nightmare? Talk about a mind fuck. A slight, amused chuckle slips past her lips when she runs her fingers through her hair. “Yeah. It was just a nightmare…” She whispers to herself before falling back onto her bed. 

 She can’t help but repeat the words that Sol said to her in her nightmare: ‘You are in jeopardy,’ ‘Be aware of who is close to you,’ ‘Pick and choose your friends/prey wisely.’  ‘ Or else I’ll have to take over .’ Is she really in danger? Who does she have to worry about? What did Sol mean by ‘pick your friends’ and ‘pick your prey’ wisely? What did it mean when it said ‘I’ll have to take over?’ She purses her lips, and her mind wanders to the nightmare sequence that happened prior to her encounter with Sol. Does that nightmare mean she’s not actually stopping anything? Does it mean Raccoon City’s destruction is going to inevitably happen? No… no ! She has plenty of time left. Her pessimistic thoughts are just getting to her at this point. None of that has happened yet — and she’s going to stop it from happening, too.

 ‘... It was just a stupid, stupid nightmare .’ She reassures herself as she takes a deep breath and exhales, relaxing into her mattress as her heartbeat steadies itself. ‘Your mind is just playing tricks on you, Erica.’ 

 Even if it wasn’t just a nightmare, she can worry about it in the morning. She’s, quite frankly, exhausted, and it doesn’t take long before she drifts back into slumber and enters the dream world once again.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃February 9th, 1998.
TIME: ┃8:03:51 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Erica nervously looks up at the S.T.A.R.S. office plaque. She didn’t sleep very well last night; haunted by the screams and sounds of agony from the Umbrella officers and plagued with nightmares of Sherry, William, and Sol. If that wasn’t bad enough, since her senses have now heightened to such an extreme, she couldn’t so much as drift off without the sound of something simple like water droplets booming when they fell or the buzz of electricity infiltrating her ear drums. It was as if every noise within a 100 mile radius was invading her ears with every chance they got, and once the city woke up all hell broke loose. If exhaustion could be written on her face, it would spell it out loud and clear. However, as she takes a deep breath and reaches a hand forward to open the door, the exhaustion washes away and paranoia takes over her body instead. She has a feeling she’ll get a barrage of questions once she enters the office. “Where have you been?” “Where did you go last night?” “Are you okay?” More importantly, she has a feeling Wesker will question why she’s alive. Hopefully she won’t have to deal with such things, and her hopes are solidified when she steps inside the room; a few S.T.A.R.S. members smile and wave at her while the others don’t notice her at all. She gives them a wave and a straight smile before walking over to her desk and placing her work folders on top of it, along with a brand new blood free purse. 

 ‘ Whew . Looks like the coast is clear.’ She tells herself. So far no one is suspicious of a thing. 

 As she finds her seat, Wesker happens to notice her from the window of his office. Immediately, he’s on high alert; how is it possible for Miss Slater to be here right now? How is she here in this office alive — much less completely unscathed? How did she escape the wreckage unharmed? How did she escape the training facility in one piece? How did she escape at all? What on earth is going on?

 He furrows his brows and turns around to pick up the phone. He dials a number and presses the phone to his ear as he waits for it to ring. It rings several times, and he taps his foot impatiently before someone picks up. 

 “ Hello? ” William answers groggily. He sounds like he’s still in bed.

 “William, listen to me. This is an urgent matter.” Wesker says.

 “ What’s going on? ” William asks.

 “Miss Erica Slater just walked in for her shift.” Wesker explains, watching Erica through the window. There’s silence from the other side of the phone, and after a moment William speaks up. 

 “ Excuse me? ”

 “You heard me.” Wesker says, and the other line is silent again before William clears his throat. “ Albert, are you sure you’re not just seeing things? She’s supposed to be dead . ”

 “You know, I grow tired of you taking me for a fool, William.” Wesker grunts, about to berate the other man for the thousandth time, but before he has a chance to say anything else William interrupts him.

 “I’ll believe it when I see her with my own two eyes.” He says before changing the subject, “You know what, I’ll talk to you later. Something just came up.” 

 The dial tone rings in Wesker’s ears, and he slams the phone down in irritation. ‘That insufferable piece of shit .’ He thinks, ‘He doesn’t see what I see. He’s too damn caught up in wanting an executive chair to see what opportunities are in front of him.’

 Wesker knows something strange is going on. He’s absolutely positive that he gave the extraction team the right information about Erica, from where she lived to where she would be that night — right down to an accurate description of her appearance. So how is it possible that she’s alive? How is she standing here, in this office, acting as if nothing happened to her this past weekend? Did their team not only go the wrong route, but pick the wrong woman as well? Nothing is making any sense to him, and he can feel a migraine coming on just trying to make sense out of nothing. He sits back down in his desk chair, massaging his temples. Birkin may not believe him now, but sooner or later he’s going to witness the spectacle that is sitting in the S.T.A.R.S. office right now — sitting at her very own desk.

 Erica could hear Wesker’s entire phone call, and her heart rate started to pick up the moment her name left his mouth. When he informed William that she is in fact alive, the fear that she was about to be found out crept up the back of her neck. Fortunately for her, William dismissed Wesker. He doesn’t buy Wesker’s story — thank God — and when she catches a quick glance of Wesker through his office window she can see the irritation and deep thought written on his face. It makes the corner of her mouth twitch, amused that she’s gotten under his skin like this. It entertains her, but at the same time it makes her worried. 

 Does he know? Does he know that she killed those Umbrella officers? Is he on to her? What’s going to happen whenever William finds out she’s actually still alive? How is he going to react whenever he realizes Wesker is right? 

 She doesn’t want to think about any of those things right now — at least, not at work — so she can just worry about all that later.

 Jill looks up from her desk at the last second to see Erica turn her head from looking at Wesker in his office, and when she looks to Wesker’s office she notices his gaze burning into Erica. It might just be her imagination, but is something going on between them? No, there’s no way their uptight captain would be interested in the secretary…but what other explanation would there be for their weird fixation on each other? Matter of fact, now that she starts to think about it she realizes that Wesker and Erica have been eyeing each other ever since she started working here. Is something going on between the two of them or is Jill just making something out of nothing? 

 Jill purses her lips in thought before a lightbulb turns on in her brain. Maybe she can invite Erica out to a Girls’ Day and find out for herself. The two of them could go shopping and grab something to eat, and maybe she’ll find out more about Erica. She was able to learn a little about Erica’s tastes and interests during the weekend at Black Jack’s, but even though she mainly talked about the kinds of things she liked or what hobbies she participated in after work, she always avoided topics like relationships, family, or her life before Raccoon City. It was very weird, but Jill decided to shrug it off at the time. Maybe it’s because the two women aren’t that close, but Jill has no problem putting herself out there to change that. 

 She gets up from her chair and walks over to Erica’s desk, prompting the blonde to peer up at the brunette. Immediately, she can hear the blood vigorously pumping through Jill’s veins and smell the strong scent of her skin, making Erica’s stomach gurgle with disgust when she approaches her desk. For once she isn’t hungry for human flesh, but now she’s sick to her stomach just thinking about it. She feels her stomach rumble with nausea again, and she forces a friendly smile. “What’s up, Jill?”

 “Nothing much.” Jill smiles in return, “I just wanted to come over here and ask you if you were free sometime?”

 Erica immediately begins to wonder where Jill is going with this. Is she going to invite her out to Black Jack’s again? Because if so, Erica will have to pass. Black Jack’s is the furthest thing from her mind and the last place she wants to go to again for a while. She’s about to decline, but her curiosity ultimately gets the better of her and she responds.  “I’m free Wednesday if you are.”

 “That works for me.” Jill says, “Are you up for some shopping and lunch by any chance?”

 Erica feels her stomach tighten with anxiety whenever Jill spills the reason for coming over to her desk and asking why she was free. It’s not like she doesn’t want to hang out with Jill, it’s just she can’t help but feel like this could just be another opportunity for Umbrella to snatch her off the streets again. She doesn’t want that, but for once she doesn’t want to reject the offer, either. This is another opportunity for her to get close to the S.T.A.R.S. members again, even if her last attempt ended with an unfortunate “setback.” This time it could be different. After all, Jill and Erica live in the same apartment building. It’s not like she would be going back home all by herself. She’d have a witness and in her mind that equals protection. She chews on her lower lip before she sucks it up and accepts.

 “Sure! I’d love to.”

 Jill beams at her response, “Great!” She replies. “I can’t wait.” She then returns to her desk, a smile still lingering on her lips. 

 Erica relaxes back into her seat before she begins her work, and she can’t help but feel a little giddy and nervous all at the same time. She’s happy she gets to spend some quality time with Jill, but she’s nervous to be alone with her. What is she going to do when Jill asks her questions that she doesn’t want to answer? She could dismiss Jill politely, but she can only decline answering them for so long before it seems suspicious. She’s beginning to grow tired of hiding herself, but she ends up brushing off her thoughts in favor of focusing on her work.

 Wesker notices the exchange between the two women, but he thinks nothing of it when Chris and Forest enter the office chuckling amongst themselves. He frowns as he watches them find their seats before letting out a long, dramatic sigh. Another work day, and yet another day of dealing with these imbeciles. Will he ever get a break? His eyes glance to Erica one last time before he turns his attention to his computer to start the day. 

 One of his first priorities is to further surveillance on little Miss Erica Slater, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. Why is she here? Did his team capture the wrong woman? He isn’t entirely positive, but if he wants to make sense of things he’ll keep sending as many teams as it takes to get what he wants. 

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Birkin Residence.
TIME: ┃8:09:51 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “Miss Erica, can I talk to you about something?” 

 Sherry’s voice cuts through Erica’s own, interrupting her from reading a story book. She stops reading and looks over to the girl, who’s peering at her from the head of the bed. She can hear the girl’s heart rate pick up, implicating to her she must have something important to tell her.

 The two had spent the afternoon watching various movies, listening to fun music, having silly dance parties, playing some board games, playing dress up, and even drawing. The activities carried into the evening and it wasn’t before long that the rowdy pastimes came to a close. Spending time with Sherry took Erica’s mind off of recent events, and she feels grateful to be able to babysit a kid like her — especially when the young girl had asked her to tuck her into bed and read her a bedtime story. Erica was all the more content to do so, just like she is now to lend Sherry an ear.

 “Yes, Sherry. What is it?” Erica asks, using her finger as a bookmark for the sentence she left off of and lowering the book to her lap. She smiles warmly as she gives the girl her full attention. 

 Sherry purses her lips. ‘It sounds so silly, but if anybody will believe me — Erica will.’ The little girl tells herself, taking in a deep breath before she speaks up. “Have you ever had a nightmare that felt real ?” 

 Erica pauses. What does Sherry mean by that? She isn’t about to ask what Erica thinks she’s about to ask, is she? “What do you mean?” She makes a face of confusion, praying that this conversation won’t go in the direction she thinks it’s going. She knows she’s probably just being paranoid, but she has a gut feeling that her paranoia is justified considering she was in Erica’s dream last night. A dream that very much felt real. If not for her history of sharing dreams with people, she would have brushed it off, but with all things considered…

 She waits for the girl to answer before she lets her irrational fears take hold.

 The little girl chews the inside of her cheek, “Have you ever had a nightmare that felt like it was actually happening, or that it was going to happen?”

 Erica definitely knows where this is going; she remembers how William mutated and pursued Sherry, and she remembers how she herself mutated to protect Sherry. Thankfully , the little girl didn’t fully see what she turned into. Regardless if it had been a nightmare or not, no innocent eyes should lay upon something as grotesque as her. She pushes away the pessimistic notions and clears her throat. “Why yes, I have. Why do you ask?”

 Sherry anxiously digs her nails into her palms before she begins to explain the dream which sparked her question. “Well, I had a nightmare last night and…I was somewhere really dark, and I could smell it. It smelled really bad, like a big toilet.” She laughs a little, trying to lighten her mood as she explains. Erica faintly smiles at the girl’s innocent humor as she listens. “And…and I couldn’t see for a while. But when I was able to find a light I saw an ugly monster. It chased me around for a little bit, but before it could get to me you showed up and stopped it.” She swallows, “You yelled at it, and then you started to turn into a monster.” She fumbles with her fingers. “You told me to run, and when I did I woke up.”

 Erica is silent after the words slip past the girl’s lips; this is the exact same nightmare she had. Word for word and moment for moment. This makes her begin to wonder why the nightmare occurred in the first place. Is it a warning? Does it mean William is onto her? Does it mean Sherry has seen or heard things about Erica she isn’t aware of? 

 “Why do you think you would have a nightmare that I’m a monster?” She asks, and her eyes flicker over the girl’s features with a hint of sadness. “Do you think I am one?”

 Sherry immediately puts her hands up in defense, “No!” She exclaims, but she catches herself yelling and lowers the volume of her voice. “No…I mean, I don’t think you’re a monster .” She explains before sighing in frustration that she can’t properly voice what she means. She tries again; “Well…I do think it’s kind of weird that you eat blood jelly, but that’s it. Other than that I think you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

 Erica smiles warmly. “Awe. That’s such a sweet thing for you to say, Sherry. I think you’re the sweetest little girl I’ve had the pleasure of babysitting.” 

 Sherry laughs at her comment. “I think you’re just saying that.” 

 Erica shakes her head, “No. I mean it.” She giggles. “But…I understand why you think it’s weird that I eat blood jelly. You’re not a bad person for thinking it’s weird, and you’re not going to hurt my feelings for being honest with me, either.” She looks at Sherry with sincerity. “If you ask me, I think it’s probably just your imagination blowing things out of proportion. Most people don’t eat blood jelly, so maybe your brain is trying to process it in a funny way.” She smiles, “So that means because your brain registers someone who eats blood as a monster, your imagination might perceive them as one.” She says. “It sounds a bit silly, but even I have had some pretty weird dreams like that. They seem scary but they’re harmless.” 

 Well, mostly harmless.

 Sherry takes Erica’s words into consideration. Maybe Erica is right; maybe her brain is playing tricks on her. It makes a lot more sense than the crazy theories she was coming up with; she actually thought Erica had the ability to transform into a monster. How crazy would that be, right? 

 “You’re probably right.” Sherry remarks, and Erica smiles. Before she has a chance to start reading the book again, she can hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. The headlights shine on the windows for a moment until they shut off, and not long after that car doors are opened and closed. The sound of the front door opening downstairs catches her ears, and she gets up from Sherry’s bed when shuffling feet and deep voices follow suit in the orchestra of noises.

 “Looks like your dad is home.” 

 Sherry beams. “Daddy’s home?” 

 “Yes, ma’am. That unfortunately means we will have to continue our story another time.” She states, closing the book and walking over to Sherry’s little bookshelf. “Aw…I really liked that story.” Sherry pouts, and Erica gives a straight smile as she puts the book back. “Don’t worry. We can always finish it next time.” She replies, walking back over to the girl so she can lean down and hug her. “Goodnight, Sherry. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She says, and Sherry buries her face in Erica’s shoulder. “Goodnight, Miss Erica.” She murmurs, and when the two pull away Sherry glances up at her. “Thank you for being my babysitter…”

 Erica melts at the words that leave Sherry’s lips. She didn’t expect her to say something like that, much less hear something like that, but she’s glad she did. It makes her feel like she’s been handling things the way she should — like she’s being the person she should be. 

 “Oh, you’re such a sweetheart.” She affectionately pats the girl’s shoulder. “You’re very welcome.”

 “Bye, Miss Erica.” Sherry giggles.

 “Bye, bye.”

 Erica steps out of Sherry’s room once the two bid their goodbyes, leaving on the lights so William can say goodnight to his daughter. Although Erica believes William Birkin is a deplorable human being and he doesn’t deserve his daughter, she also believes Sherry deserves her dad. That’s what matters, and she’ll be damned if she’ll prevent a parent from giving their children the love and nurturing they need and deserve. Sure, Erica can give Sherry all the attention in the world, but it would mean much more if it came from William and Annette. From what she has noticed, moreso from William. Sherry is very much a daddy’s girl.

 When William and Wesker arrive inside the house, Erica punctually heads to grab her things from the kitchen counter to head out the door. She feels a twinge of annoyance at the fact that she can’t ever catch a break from seeing Wesker even outside of work, but she plays it cool. Everything seems like it’s normal, but as she’s making her way over to grab her purse she’s noticed by William. He immediately gives Wesker a look of surprise, and behind his dark sunglasses Wesker is giving him one that says ‘I told you so.’ William didn’t believe Wesker when he said Erica was still alive, and he didn’t believe him when he saw her Corvette in the driveway, either. Now that she’s standing here in front of him, there’s no way he can deny it.

 Erica smiles at the two of them as she hears William’s heart rate quicken. “You two have a nice night.” She chirps, walking around them and towards the front door.

 “Miss Slater,” William swallows, “D-Don’t you want your payment?” He questions, and it sounded like his voice trembled for a second. She stops in place when she hears him talk. Her stomach flips with glee, amused by the fear in his tone. She turns to William, and she stares at the cash in his hand. She doesn’t need the money and it's not like she ever needed it in the first place either, but if she wants to keep making herself believable she has to accept the money. Making herself believable is more important than ever. She purses her lips before she walks up to him and takes the money from his hand. He quickly withdraws his hand after she takes it and she ushers herself towards the door, hoping she can escape before they can hold her for anything else.

 Once the door closes behind her, William doesn’t know what to say. Many questions form in his mind, piling onto one another into a giant stack of thoughts. How is Erica Slater alive ? How is she able to walk around like nothing happened? In his own home, no less! Isn’t she supposed to be dead? If an entire team of Umbrella officers can be massacred after walking into that facility, why didn’t she ? Did she just happen to get away? Even if she did, why doesn't she have any wounds? Shouldn’t she have gotten injured in the car crash? Why isn’t there a single scratch on her? What in the absolute hell is going on? Is he losing his mind?

 “Do you see what I mean?” Wesker questions, and William takes a seat on the couch. He feels like he’s gonna be sick. He’s having a hard time trying to wrap his mind around this. What happened on Saturday? What went on in that training facility? And what happened that allowed Erica to escape completely unscathed? Could she have been the one to do it? No, that’s not possible. Look at the circumstances: how could an unarmed, drunk, and drugged woman kill four mercenaries? It just doesn’t make any sense.

 As Erica walks back out to her car, Wesker watches her through one of the windows. There’s something strange about that woman, and he’s positive it has something to do with what occurred at the training facility. When a team was sent to collect the bodies of the extraction team, their bodies were completely unrecognizable. Almost all of the officers had their throats ripped out, were eaten, or completely torn apart. It’s possible whatever killed the officers was picking them off one by one, starting with the smallest of the group, and by the time it got to the remaining two its appetite had seemingly been sedated and began to kill what looked to be for sport. Based on that information alone, the monster that killed the extraction team has a sense of intelligence not yet found in B.O.W.s before. This is something Umbrella has to get on top of before any other competitor does, and Wesker is very much aware of Umbrella’s competitors and the risks they’re willing to take. 

 “Yeah, I see what you mean…” William sucks in a breath, “What exactly do you suppose we do?”

 Wesker furrows his brows; he doesn’t know what to do. He has no evidence that Erica was actually the woman the extraction team captured, and he has no physical evidence that she was at the facility that night, either. The only people who know the truth of what happened on that fateful night are Erica, the monster, and the dead officers. At this point, their best course of action would be to wait things out for a little while, and once enough time has passed they can decide what to do next. The events of this past weekend are still fresh, after all. However, he won’t stand for it. He truly believes their best course of action would be to contact Oswell Spencer, but he can’t let William know that. He would just convince Wesker it was a waste of Oswell’s time, or at the very least he would shoot the idea down. 

 “I suppose we'll send another surveillance team to look after her for the time being. If we give it some time, all the answers we want will surface.” He turns to look at William. “I’m sure of it.”

 “As long as one of us is.” William quips before getting up to head upstairs, intent on saying goodnight to his daughter. He saw that her bedroom light was still on when he got home, and today in particular he’s been ready to see his little ray of sunshine after a long day at the lab. Now he knows why he had that feeling; now he knows there’s a dead woman walking around in his house babysitting his precious daughter. He clenches his jaw at his intrusive thought before he shoves it back to where it came from; it’s just his imagination running wild again. Erica’s just a regular woman. There’s no way she could be anything but. He collects his thoughts by the time he reaches Sherry’s bedroom door, and a smile grows on his face when he sees her waiting for him.

 Erica watches the house intently as she gets into her car. Man, that was awkward. It was like both of them had seen a ghost — and based on technicalities she really is a ghost; a ghost that plans on haunting them for as long as possible. 

 She puts on her seatbelt and starts the car, leaning back in her seat as she puts the car into reverse. She glances behind her to make sure she has the right of way before pulling out of the driveway. 

 “I wonder what their problems were…” She jokes to herself, letting out a giggle. She knows what their problems were. She knows exactly why they were so taken aback by her presence, and they should be. They don’t know how or why she’s alive, and she doesn’t intend on letting them find out. She intends on taking them in as many circles as possible.

 No matter what or how long it takes.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Spencer Estate.
DATE: ┃February 11th, 1998.
TIME: ┃5:33:00 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “Her name is Erica Slater — ” 

 Wesker turns on a projector, clicking a button and displaying an image on the projector screen. It’s a picture of Erica walking away from her car and towards the entrance of her apartment building. “ — aged twenty three years old; currently working at the Raccoon City Police Department as the S.T.A.R.S. secretary.” He clicks the button again to portray an image of Erica driving out of the department’s parking garage. “She moved from a small town in the middle of nowhere to Raccoon City just over two months ago on December tenth, and she’s been living as a Raccoon citizen ever since.” The next picture of Erica is her walking out of the Birkin residence. “She’s even started working as a babysitter for Sherry Birkin, William’s daughter.” 

 The slide after that is a close up of Erica’s face from the day she took the picture for her I.D. at the RPD, and Wesker faces his spectators. “However, I’m led to believe there’s more to her than meets the eye.”

 Seeing the images of Erica makes a lightbulb turn on in one of the spectator’s heads — a decrepit old man named Oswell Spencer. 

 ‘So, she is real after all…’ Oswell reaches up and starts to stroke his chin in thought, recognizing the young woman from the nightmare he had on December twenty-sixth. He didn’t think anything of it and brushed off said nightmare, but now that the face he encountered in his dreams is on the screen in front of him he realizes it wasn’t just any nightmare. This woman is actually real…and she was actually in his dream that fateful night. ‘...and the little brat has been working for both of my very pupils to get to me this whole time. How smart .’ He muses to himself. The old man recalls the conversation the two of them had in his nightmare that night; she told him she didn’t know why she was in his dream, but she surmised that it was a warning to either of them. A warning that makes him remember that she said killing him would ‘make a great payoff’ and stated that he ‘doesn’t know what she’s capable of’ before lunging towards him. Does that mean their entire conversation was real? Is she seriously a threat to him? More importantly, is she really a threat to his company? Does that mean his entire life’s work is in jeopardy? Or will it guide his work in the direction he’s hoped for all these years?

 “On the night of February eighth — at around twelve A.M. — an extraction team followed her and S.T.A.R.S. Officer Chris Redfield from the Black Jack Bar to her apartment building and collected Miss Slater from her street corner once Redfield had vacated the premises. The team’s orders were to capture her and report to the NEST facility, but they changed course and instead headed in the direction of the Arklay Laboratory. While their actions were and still remain unknown, they ultimately led to the discovery of an unknown monster inside the old Training School facility. It killed the entire team, but it didn’t kill Miss Slater. Because of this, I am led to believe this unknown monster is actually Erica Slater herself.”

 William widens his eyes, surprised that Wesker actually brought him and two of Umbrella’s executives — one of them being one of the company’s founders — here for this ; is he out of his fucking mind? What evidence does he HAVE? Hell, what rationality does he have to root in this claim? Does he even have any anymore? And here William thought he was losing his own sanity working in this god awful company…

 “What are you proposing , Dr. Wesker?” Sergei, Oswell’s right hand man, asks with his thick, Russian accent. “Are you suggesting she is a biological weapon?”

 “Correct, Colonel.” Wesker states. “On the night of her kidnapping, the officers reported she crashed the vehicle in hopes of escape. She then took off in the surrounding woods and, prior to the teams’ deaths, they also reported that she ran into the Training School to hide.” He continues, “Officer Johnathan Kibbles relayed that a monstrous howl echoed through the building and by one the officers were killed off. Once it got to Officer Kibbles, however, a voice spoke into his radio.”

 “What did this voice sound like?” Oswell questions, intertwining his fingers together as he lowers his hands to the table.

 “It was unlike anything I have ever heard.” Wesker furrows his brows in thought as he tries to describe it, “It was as if there were different voices speaking in unison. A man, a woman, a child, a demon — I couldn’t tell, but I could tell it wasn’t human.”

 “What did this voice say?” Sergei asks.

 “It said ‘Your officer is dead.’ As if it was taunting us.” Wesker straightens his mouth, and the superiors are silent. Oswell registers Wesker's explanations before he glances at William. “Is this true, William?” 

 William quickly straightens himself at the sound of his name, and he clears his throat as his palms start to sweat. “Y-Yes, sir.” He nods.

 “Hm. I see.” Oswell mumbles. Could this be the beginning of this woman’s wrath? Is this the beginning of Umbrella’s downfall? No, he won’t allow some little harlot to ruin all that he has accomplished all these years. Over his dead body . He shoves these thoughts aside and swallows thickly. 

“You may continue, Wesker.” Oswell says, and Wesker nods. “Yes, sir.” 

 He turns to the screen and clicks to the next slide. The image shows the crashed Umbrella SUV; the windshield and windows are all shattered, and remnants of blood cover the hood. There is also some blood on the tree in front of the vehicle. “If you see here, there’s several traces of blood on the vehicle and the surrounding area. Based on the scene, it’s extremely likely for someone to have flown through the SUV’s windshield. This someone could have in fact been Miss Slater, but I’m not certain. Unfortunately we were not able to recover any proper blood samples as it had rained by the time we arrived.” Wesker changes the slide to another image of Erica, taken only a day earlier. “This picture was taken yesterday and, as you can see, there is not a single scratch on her body.” He turns to look at his superiors. “How is it possible for someone who was kidnapped, drugged, and supposedly injured in a car crash come to work with no injuries? It’s not . That being said, I am confident that this woman is inhuman, and, more importantly, a biological weapon.”

 Silence befalls the room after the words slip past Wesker’s lips, and William chews his lower lip in anticipation. He swallows nervously before the old man pipes up, breaking the quiet air growing between them all.

 “Sergei, William — would you two mind stepping outside for a moment? I would like to speak to Wesker privately.” He remarks, and the anxious William and domineering Sergei follow their superior’s orders, slipping out of the room and closing the door behind them. William can only hope Wesker will come out of the room alive after the stunt he just pulled. He genuinely did not expect to see Wesker go off the deep end like that. Why would he make all these assumptions out of thin air like some kind of mad man? This just isn’t like him.  ‘Better him than me.’ He shrugs to himself, but when Sergei looks at him sinisterly he gulps. ‘On second thought…maybe not.’ Did Wesker bring him here with the intention of getting both of them killed?

 After the door closes, Oswell turns to Wesker. “I’m sure you’re aware of what the implications of what you’re saying are.”

 “I do.” Wesker folds his arms behind his back.

 “ Good .” Oswell leans back in his chair, “I’ll be assigning you to a private mission. Keep surveilling her and find out anything you can about her, even if you think it’s minimal. I want you to bring any information you might have to me.” He clasps his hands together. “Be extremely wary of her. If she’s working as your subordinate and as William’s babysitter, chances are she probably has been aware of who you and William are this entire time.” The elder states, and the statement hits Wesker like a freight train. Did he just hear that right? Of course he heard that right — this is Oswell Spencer we’re talking about. Is he saying Erica has been aware of him and Umbrella this entire time? Has her position in S.T.A.R.S. and as Sherry’s babysitter been a cover-up this entire time? Could she be a disgruntled ex-employee? A spy? No — Umbrella would have known who she is and been made aware of such things by now. Based on the Umbrella founder’s reaction, Wesker can’t help but feel as if he knows who she is. It makes him all the more question her identity. 

 After hearing the old man’s revelation it finally makes sense to him as to why Erica looks at him with either a fearful gaze or a malicious stare when she thinks he isn’t looking. She appears to be deathly afraid of him, but she appears to hate him with a fiery passion all at the same time. This little bunny is also a little viper — armed with vicious venom — and she’s determined to poison anything in her path. She’s most definitely poisoned the minds of the S.T.A.R.S. members, and even worse, Sherry. She’s been slithering her way into the police department and the Birkins’ home, and the thought makes his stomach flutter with arousal. She’s lied to them all and, while he gives her props for fooling even him for a short time, he now has blackmail to hang over her head. Wesker may not have concrete evidence, but there are far too many coincidences for him to disregard the idea. The crashed SUV, the dead officers, the unharmed woman — these are far too many serendipities for him to ignore. There’s more to this woman than she’s leading on, and he’s determined to expose her true self to him. If someone like Oswell Spencer tells him to be wary of her, you’ll be damned if you think he wouldn’t be.

 “I see.” Wesker mumbles to himself before speaking up. “When should I begin this mission?”

 “As soon as possible. Inform Birkin that he will have to play his own part as well if he wants to acquire a new candidate for his little G-Virus project. He is not to bar her from babysitting his daughter, and he will act as if nothing ever happened.” Oswell demands, and once he’s done speaking he presses a button on his desk and talks into a microphone, telling William and Sergei to come back into the room. A few minutes pass by, and when the two men return to the room Oswell dismisses Wesker and William. “Thank you for coming to me with this information. I will take it into great consideration. You two are free to leave now.” The researchers nod and turn to walk out the door, and Sergei makes eye contact with Wesker. He eyes the blonde hard with his single eye, wary of the sunglass wearing man. Just what exactly did the two of them discuss while he and Birkin were gone? What is it that even Sergei could have no business of knowing? 

 Wesker gives the brute of a man a smirk and this makes the disdain Sergei has for Wesker only grow bigger, but he chooses to push it aside in favor of speaking to his old and close friend once the other men are gone. “Is everything alright?”

 “Indeed. Everything is very much alright.” Oswell grins sinisterly. 

 So far, Wesker has proved himself to be a successful test subject in terms of virus compatibility, intelligence, and fitting inside of Oswell’s perfect, molded image. Now that there is another piece on the board, the likelihood of Oswell achieving his goal of creating a superhuman race has now doubled in chance. Could this woman actually be a biological weapon? Could she possess the ability to shapeshift into a monster? Is there a biological weapon living in Raccoon City amongst the oblivious citizens? And if so, could she be the key to achieving his lifelong goal? He knows Wesker will be able to get him the answers he desires; all he has to do is sit back and wait. Perhaps this woman will grant him the necessary means to attain the world he so craves — and what if all of the assumptions about her turn out to be wrong? What if his pupils just came to him with information based on bizarre theories? What if this all turns out to be some kind of ridiculous ploy?

 Ah, well. The death of a single, unimportant woman won’t be that much of an issue to him or his company.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City, Missouri.
TIME: ┃2:11:00 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

  It’s a busy day in Raccoon City; there’s a lot of traffic, and many bustling citizens are on the streets starting their weekends and running errands. The sun is shining down, warming up the recently cold climate from its chilly winter. Birds chirp and tweet happily while fluffy clouds dance across the bright, baby blue sky. Amongst the citizens occupying the busy streets are Erica and Jill, who are carrying a few bags from recent fashion stores they had been to. The two women had browsed through a few stores and purchased some new clothes, accessories, and shoes. They had a lot of fun together looking through all the cute items, trying them on, and giggling at some of the silly trends. Now that they have completed their shopping, they’re beginning to crave for something to eat; Erica moreso. The combination of the sun beating down on her and the fact that she hasn’t remotely eaten any real food for a couple of days is taking its toll on her, and Jill is quick to notice. Erica looks like she’s going to faint; more importantly, she looks like a literal walking corpse. Her skin, lips, and eyes have lost their color, and she’s sweating profusely. This takes Jill aback a little, but she shrugs it off as Erica just needing something to eat. She might feel and look better once she gets something in her stomach. 

 “You want to head to Tony’s Kitchen? They’ve got the best fries.” Jill suggests, sending a wave of relief over Erica’s body.

 “Oh you read my mind loud and clear.” She replies with a smile, and the two head towards the restaurant. Her smile lingers as they walk down the street.

 Today has been a good day. Erica is happy to have been able to spend time with Jill as her friend again, and she’s glad she’s one step closer to earning her trust. It had been so long since the two of them genuinely hung out or did anything remotely on their own, and Erica is glad to be able to experience their friendship again. During Erica’s first time in Raccoon City, Jill never abandoned her even when Erica admitted that Umbrella had turned her into a freak. She didn’t abandon her even after she said she ate someone. She vowed to help Erica, and she told her Chris would help her, too. Even Barry Burton himself admitted he would help her, and she wasn’t as close to him as she had been to Jill and Chris. They were willing to fight for her, and now it’s her turn to fight for them. In order to do that, she needs to stop creating all these problems for herself and tell them everything already. Once she does, she won’t have so much to worry about. She glances at Jill, who’s holding onto Erica’s arm and dragging her along with a determined look on her face. She smiles as her thoughts slip her mind. She can worry about telling her at another time. 

 They travel a couple more blocks before they can reach the establishment, and once there they step inside. The smell of food quickly overwhelms Erica’s senses, and her own stomach gurgles in excitement at the various smells. She can smell the grease of the fryers, the salt of the fries, the juiciness of the burgers on the grill — it all smells so delicious. Can she just eat already before she ends up eating the whole restaurant? 

 The two women find a place to sit, and a waitress approaches them with some menus, handing them out before asking them if they’d like something to drink. Jill orders a water while Erica orders a sweet tea, and after the waitress leaves they begin searching through the many food options. Jill decides on a chili dog with a side of fries and coleslaw, while Erica picks an American style hamburger with a side of fries and mac and cheese. She would have ordered a few more meals, but she can fill up at home later. Their waitress returns with their respected drinks, and once they order they hand their menus back to the waitress. 

 Jill and Erica share some casual chit-chat as they wait for their food to arrive, and at some point during the conversation Jill’s thoughts venture to a new category: opinions. The first thing on Jill’s mind is finding out what Erica’s opinion of Wesker is. She wants to know why both of them stare at each other with such intensity at times, and she wants to know if something is going on between them. It’s not like it’s her business or anything — she just likes a bit of juicy gossip. After all, it would be a total shock to hear that Captain Albert Wesker of all people is involved with anyone much less Erica. It’s not like Erica doesn’t stare at Chris at times, but the amount of times her eyes have traveled to the captain are far greater.

 “So…I have a question.” Jill starts, twirling the straw in her drink. “What do you think of Captain Wesker?” She asks with a curious smile, and Erica swallows thickly. Of all people, why did Wesker have to be the topic of Jill’s interest? Where did that even come from? Why does Jill want to know what her opinion of him is? She purses her lips in thought before responding.

 “He’s okay I guess.” She shrugs. Obviously Erica doesn’t think that, but she can’t outright tell the reason why she doesn’t like him, either. It’s not that simple. 

 Jill can’t help but laugh at the other woman’s answer. That didn’t sound very enthusiastic. “Why did you say it like that ? I don’t think he’s that bad. He’s just a stickler is all.” Wesker hasn’t been their captain for long, but for the short time Jill has known him she finds him to be a respectable, tough, and reserved man. He does his job well and treats his subordinates with respect, although with a stern attitude.  Jill considers him to be a pretty attractive man, but he’s much too serious for her. He comes across as emotionally distant from the S.T.A.R.S. members, but despite this Jill believes that if everybody just gives him a chance he’ll feel comfortable enough to stop being so standoffish — including Erica.

 Erica, however, isn’t changing her mind about Wesker anytime soon.

 “I just…don’t trust him. I would honestly rather be as far away from him as possible.” Erica takes a sip from her drink, trying to avoid this conversation. She would prefer it if they do not talk about her feelings and opinions, and she most certainly doesn’t want to tell Jill everything out in the open like this. 

 “What makes you say that?” The brunette inquires, taking a sip from her own drink as she leans back in her seat. 

 Erica’s appetite begins to subside as her stomach flips in circles, igniting a wave of nausea to wash over her. “Just trust me.” She answers.  “He isn’t right .” She looks down to her lap.

 Jill quirks a brow. “What do you mean exactly? You’re not really telling me anything here, Erica.” She responds, but before she has a chance to inquire about anything else the waitress returns with their food. Once they get their meals, they kindly thank the waitress and she leaves to service another table. Jill pipes up again, “Did Wesker do something to you?”

 Erica’s mind immediately shuts down when Jill asks her that question. She didn’t think she was going to be asked that, and the inquiry makes her eyes water. ‘Dammit.’ She thinks. She quickly blinks away her forming tears, looking away for a moment so the other woman can’t see. She takes a deep breath before turning back to the other. “No.” She denies,  “No…I just — I don’t have a good feeling about him, and I just know these things about people.” She starts putting some ketchup onto the side of her plate for her fries, and Jill furrows her brows. “I see.” 

 Jill isn’t an idiot, and Erica is a pretty terrible liar. Wesker must have done something to her considering how fast her personality changed at the mere mention of his name. Erica might deny it to Jill’s face, but Jill can’t deny the look of pain and fear on the other’s face. That much is clear. 

 “Well…then what do you know about me?” She changes the subject, grabbing a plastic fork and removing it from its plastic packaging. Erica watches her for a moment, taken aback by the question that just left the other’s mouth. What doesn’t Erica know? She knows practically everything there is to know about Resident Evil and Raccoon City like the back of her hand, including things about Jill; from the young woman’s past, to her position at S.T.A.R.S., to her escape from Raccoon City, to her formation of the B.S.A.A. (Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance), and her unfortunate abuse at the hands of Wesker. She even knows her tastes in music, movies, hobbies, etc. She has great respect and a deep love for Jill, and this sentiment causes a slightly sarcastic remark to slip past her lips. 

 “I know that you’re too good for him.”

 Jill chortles. “You sure know how to flatter people.”

 “No, I mean it.” Erica straightens herself, “He’s an uptight, self-centered, conniving asshole and you’re quite literally the opposite.” She looks into Jill’s eyes with sincerity. “You’re an independent, strong, selfless, and intelligent woman. Anybody would be an idiot to not see that.” At the end of her rant Jill stares at her with surprise, and Erica clears her throat as her face heats up from embarrassment. “I mean, that’s what I got the impression of.” She sheepishly looks down at her food.

 A smile slowly graces across Jill’s lips. She didn’t think Erica thought so highly of her, and it may or may not stroke her ego a little bit. “Thanks, Erica.” She says.

  Erica looks back up and grins. “You’re welcome.” She picks up a couple of fries and glances back at Jill. “Now let’s eat. These fries are calling out to me.” She laughs, and Jill giggles as the two begin munching on their meal.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s Apartment.
DATE: ┃February 12th, 1998.
TIME: ┃10:56:38 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After finishing another night babysitting Sherry, Erica returns home to her apartment. She locks the door behind her before she tosses her purse and car keys onto the counter. She takes a gander around her apartment. She always feels so empty when she comes back home; every day that passes by the silence makes her miss her family more and more. She sighs and stretches, grunting as her bones crackle and her muscles relax. What a long day. Now it’s time to take a nice, hot shower. She notices a light on her answering machine flashing in the corner of her eye, and she walks over to it to press the play button. It relays her voicemail and beeps loudly, and Erica listens intently as Chris’s voice begins coming out of the speaker. 

 “Hey, Erica, it’s Chris. I don’t know if you’re home right now but if you are I just wanted to let you know Forest and I are hosting a party at our place next weekend, and I was wondering if you wanted to come. We’re just going to order some pizza, uhm, play a couple of games, maybe watch some movies… Uh, give me a call back when you can or let me or Forest know if you’re interested in going the next time you see us.”

 The machine beeps again, letting Erica know she no longer has any messages. She stands in silence for a moment, contemplating if she should go to this party or not. After her last get-together with the S.T.A.R.S. members, she ended up getting kidnapped by Umbrella. She was lucky to have lived in the same building as Jill when they returned home after their Girls’ Day, but she can’t say the same for Chris and Forest’s apartment. They don’t live very far, but what if Umbrella tries something else when she’s going back to her car? What if they do something when she’s leaving her car to get back to her apartment building? What if some of Umbrella’s officers sneak into her apartment while she’s gone?

 She decides to push off her paranoia and make note to ask Chris about the party when she sees him on her next shift. It’s been a long time since she’s been to a party.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Chris and Forest’s Apartment Building.
DATE: ┃February 21st, 1998.
TIME: ┃9:38:45 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Erica is standing in front of Chris and Forest’s apartment door, contemplating if she should knock on it or not. She can hear some music playing and some laughter from the other side, and everybody sounds like they’re having a nice time. She'll have a nice time, too, if she just knocks on the door. She sucks in a breath and hesitantly raises her fist up towards the door. She’s been anxious ever since Chris invited her to his party, but she hasn’t been able to place if she has anxiety about going to the party or what might entail going to said party. This is her second attempt at getting close with the S.T.A.R.S. members again — and she hopes this time her night won’t end with an unfortunate series of events. She needs something positive, and hopefully she’ll leave this party with a positive outlook instead. She shakes her head to get rid of her thoughts before she finally knocks.

 Knock, knock, knock.

 After she puts her hand back down, she starts to patiently wait for someone to answer. It doesn’t take long for the sound of voices talking to catch her ears.

 “Hey, did you hear that?” 

 “Yeah, it sounded like someone’s at the door.”

 “Alright, nobody panic. I got it.” A laugh.

 Erica holds her breath, anticipation boiling over when footsteps start to edge closer and closer to the door. She smiles once the door flings open, revealing the face of Forest. She was secretly hoping Chris would answer the door, but it doesn’t matter; she’s going to his party at his apartment. She’ll see him regardless. Plus, she doesn’t have the right to get excited to see Chris anyways — it’s not like they’re together or anything. Forest raises his brows in surprise, confused to see her standing there. Since when was she invited? When was Chris going to mention that this lovely lady was coming to their party? If he had known she was coming, he would have dressed a little better.

 “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss Erica Slater.” His words are slightly slurred, and she can smell the alcohol practically dripping off of his breath — but that could also be because he’s holding a beer in his hand. Probably both . “I wasn’t expecting you …” He teases.

 Chris just so happens to see Erica from over Forest’s shoulder, and he immediately puts his drink on the counter and rushes over to the front door. Forest might say something to her that might drive her away if he hasn’t already. He pats Forest on the shoulder, interrupting his shenanigans. “Hey man, why don’t you go see if there’s something else we can put on the player?”

 Forest whips his head around. “Hm,” He gives Chris a look of skepticism, “ Sure .” He winks at Erica before sipping from his beer and walking away.

 Chris turns to Erica and he gives her a welcoming grin. “Heh, sorry about him.”

 “No, it’s fine. I’m used to his antics at this point.” She laughs, and he chuckles at her comment before noticing that he hasn’t even let her in yet. “Oh! Sorry, come in.” He awkwardly says, pulling open the door wider for her to step inside. 

 Erica promptly steps inside the apartment and takes a look around. It looks just like how she remembers it; posters decorating the walls, yard sale furniture, and the strong smell of cologne and other manly scents. There’s a record player in the corner playing ‘Let’s Groove’ by Earth, Wind & Fire, and a baseball game is on the tv. Only half of the S.T.A.R.S. members are here — comprising of Chris, Forest, Joseph, Richard, and Jill. There are a couple of other women there; she recognizes one of them as Richard’s girlfriend Bridgett Neals. Bridget was at the bar at Black Jack’s with Richard the night Erica was kidnapped.

 Chris closes the door behind Erica and turns to her, “You want a drink?”

 She smiles; boy, does she ever. “I could use one.”

 The two make their way into the kitchen, and Joseph approaches the two. He gives Erica a welcoming smile, “Hey, Erica.” She grins back at him and gives a little wave. “Hey, Joseph.” 

 Joseph then slides past Chris to open the fridge and retrieve another beer, closing the fridge and walking out of the kitchen once he acquires what he came for. He walks over to Forest who’s at the record player sorting through tons of records and joins him in looking for some music.

 Chris grabs a glass from one of the cabinets, closing the cabinet before turning to grab some ice from the fridge. Once he fills the glass with ice, he looks at Erica. “Take your pick.” He gestures towards a various array of alcoholic, carbonated, and juice beverages. She goes with a basic rum and coke mix, and Chris happily fulfills her request, pouring it for her before he hands her the glass. She takes it with a smile, “Thank you.”

 “Of course.” He places the bottles back and reaches for his own glass he had placed on the counter. Erica takes a sip from her drink when Jill enters the kitchen, and the brunette gives Erica a warm grin. “Hey, Erica.” 

 Erica returns the gesture, “Hey, Jill.” 

 Jill grabs a bottle of whiskey and starts filling her glass before she glances at Erica. “I’m glad you got here when you did. You came at just the right time.”

 “I did?” Erica questions, and Chris raises a brow in confusion. “She did?”

 “Yeah.” Jill puts the cap back on the bottle and puts it back. “We were just about to start a game of Truth or Dare.”

 “Isn’t that a game you play in middle school?” Chris laughs, taking a swig from his glass. Why would they play something childish like that? He can’t remember the last time he even played said game. To Erica on the other hand — she thinks it would be a pretty entertaining game to play. It was a game she usually played at parties with friends, including other games like “Never Have I Ever” and “M.A.S.H. (Mansion, Apartment, Shack, House).” ‘Ah, what the hell.’ She thinks to herself, ‘It’s not like I have anything better to do.’

 “Eh, I don’t see why not. It seems like it would be fun. Everybody else seems down to play.” Jill shrugs.

 “I’m not — ” Chris starts, but Erica happens to speak at the same time. “Sure, I’ll play.” She says, but she immediately catches herself when she realizes she accidentally spoke over him. “Oh, I’m sorry, Chris. You were saying something?” 

 Immediately, he backtracks from what he was about to say. If Erica wants to play, he doesn’t mind joining in. It’s not like he’s changing his mind because she wants to play or anything, he just thinks Jill has a point. It does seem like it would be fun. Plus, if everybody says they’re interested in playing…

 “I was about to say I’ll play.” He clears his throat awkwardly.

 “Great!” Jill chirps. 

 The three of them pour into the living room to find a seat. Bridgett starts off the game by telling everyone to pick a number one through ten. Forest picks four, Joseph picks two, Richard picks nine, Jill picks six, Erica picks seven, and Chris picks one. It’s that the number closest to one should go first and, based on the numbers chosen, Chris gets to take the first turn. Chris can’t help but smile and hang his head in defeat for a moment; of course the one who didn’t really want to play would go first. He chuckles, “Alright. Lay it on me.”

 “Truth or Dare, Chris.”

 Chris isn’t too keen on being dared to do something so early in the game, so he decides to go with what he believes is the safest option. “Truth.” He says.

 “Is it true that you have a crush on someone in the police department?” Bridgett asks, prompting the room to fill with ‘ooo’’s and a few giggles.

 Chris’s face becomes a light shade of pink. This is exactly why he didn’t want to play; he knew something like this was going to happen. Why did he think truth was the safest option? And why did it have to be this question in particular? Well, Bridgett did say the department and not the office ; at least she allowed him to have some kind of ambiguity. He glances at Erica for a split second before looking away, not wanting to look at her too long and give the answer away to anyone. Unfortunately, by doing that he incriminated himself to the very person the question refers to. Erica happens to notice his eyes on her for that mere moment, and she takes a sip from her glass in hopes that the alcohol will make it easier to pretend she didn’t notice. 

 Joseph nudges Chris’s arm to mess with him, and Chris looks at him before he reluctantly nods in response to the question. “Oh uh, yeah.” He awkwardly answers. “I do.” 

 “Who is it?” Jill asks, a sly smile spread across her face. She already knows who Chris has a crush on so she doesn’t need to ask; everybody knows he has his eye on Erica — except Erica. In Jill’s opinion, Erica seems like she couldn’t be a more perfect match for Chris. Anyone is able to see that Erica is kind, beautiful, funny, and overall a unique and wonderful person. She knows how to have a good time and has proven that she’s pretty reliable. She and Chris seem to get along just fine, too. Although she has only known Erica for a little over two months, Jill feels like she’s known Erica for a lot longer than that — like she’s an old friend she reconnected with. Chris’s voice pulls her from her thoughts.

 “Oh, Brian Irons all the way. There’s just something about an angry, tubby man that just gets me going, ya know?” Chris jokes, and the room bursts into a fit of giggles. “Nice try, though.” He laughs. 

 After many silly dares and many juicy truths later, the group ended their game of Truth or Dare to start a movie titled ‘Total Recall.’ It wasn’t long after that that Richard and his girlfriend left the apartment to go home, and Jill soon followed suit. Once Jill left, Forest passed out in the recliner. Joseph decided to stay the night, falling asleep on the couch not long after Forest crashed. Even though Chris initially refused to let her help, Erica stuck around to help him clean up after the party. It wasn’t like she had anyone or anything to go home to, nor did she have anything to do. She may or may not have wanted to stay because she was afraid Umbrella would try something if she left, but she mostly stayed because she wanted to enjoy Chris’s company — whether she would admit it or not. Now it’s just the two of them pacing through the apartment, picking up whatever remaining pieces of trash they find. The last paper plate is tossed into a trash bag, and Chris seals it up, setting it next to the trash can so he can take it out to the dumpster tomorrow. He looks around his apartment, and for some reason he feels like it looks better now than it did before the party. His silly thought is interrupted when he notices Erica going for her purse, and he speaks up. 

 “Are you leaving already?” He questions, and he can feel his face heat up when she looks at him. A shudder runs down his spine when his eyes lock with her own. “Well, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.” She laughs, and butterflies flutter in his stomach when he sees her smile. “It’s pretty late.” She adds.

 Chris turns to take a look at the time displayed on the oven in the kitchen; it reads 11:51 PM. It is pretty late, but it’s not like either of them have to work tomorrow. He turns back to her. “I didn’t realize it was almost midnight, heh.” He jokes before clearing his throat. “But, uhm, you’re welcome to stay if you want. I wouldn’t want you to drive home this late in the night.” He secretly hopes she’ll accept his offer, because it will finally give him his chance to talk to her alone. Earlier in the night he tried many times to speak to her, but anytime he tried it seemed there was always something or someone to interrupt him. Now there’s nothing stopping him.

 Erica stares at him for a moment, internally struggling to make a decision. Should she leave? Should she stay? Part of her tells her she should leave and not get involved with him, while another part of her tells her she should stay and give herself a taste of happiness for once. She wants to leave to save him from the hurt that might follow, but she also wants to stay, longing to have what she denied herself all those months ago. What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like she’s hungry for flesh right now. It’s been satiated for the time being… Her inner turmoil grows from a tiny ball of fire to that of a raging sun, and within an instant its explosive flames are snuffed out when she makes a decision. 

 “Sure. I don’t really feel like driving, anyways.” She says, putting her purse back on the counter.

 “Great.” Chris replies, walking over to the fridge. “You want a beer while you’re here?”

 “No thank you, I’m fine.” She smiles. The buzz from her drinks earlier have already worn off, and she’s not exactly in the mood to get drunk again. Chris nods at her response.

 He feels around in his pocket for his cigarettes; he needs to head out for a smoke. “You, uh, want to join me on the fire escape?” His heartbeat starts to pick up, and she can hear it. She quickly answers so as to distract herself from the sound. “Sure.” She replies. On the inside, Erica can’t help but feel like Chris has been wanting to talk to her about something all night — and she feels like she has an idea as to what he wants to tell her. She can’t speak for him, but she believes he has a crush on her. Lately he’s been acting more friendly towards her than usual, his heartbeat always gets faster around her, and he’s been stumbling over himself more. Earlier tonight when he looked at her during their game of Truth or Dare, it made her feel like her suspicions were right. 

 She swallows thickly as Chris opens the window to the fire escape and climbs through. She follows behind him, and when she makes it through the window he offers his hand for her to take. She smiles and takes it, and he helps her stand before letting go of her hand. She thanks him before he pulls out his pack of cigarettes. After pulling out a cigarette he offers her one, but she declines, prompting him to shove the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket. 

 The sounds of the city settle between the both of them, and Erica occasionally taps her fingers while Chris occasionally takes a drag from his cig. The tension between the both of them grows by the minute, and it isn’t long before he breaks the silence.

 “Erica, why don’t you talk about yourself more?”

 She immediately turns her attention towards him. She knew it; she knew he had something on his mind. She knew he was going to confront her with something, and that something makes anticipation grip her stomach. “What do you mean?” 

 Chris takes a swig of his beer and puts out his cigarette, tossing it down below. He takes a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling. She looks up at him, and her anticipation slowly begins to turn to anxiety. “You just…you talk about what you like or what you like to do, but you never talk about you .” He says, “I never hear any stories about your childhood. I never hear about how you grew up or the things you got into. I never hear about your family or friends or pets or, or —  ” He rambles, and he stops himself before he stumbles over his words. “ Anything …” He furrows his brows as he turns to her. “Why is that? Why do you make yourself such a mystery to people?”

 Erica stares up at him, taking in his words. She wants to run away, or scream, or cry, or all of the above. She’s so tired of hiding; she wants to tell Chris everything about herself. She wants to tell him all about those meaningless things. She wants to tell him about her shitty childhood, her loving family, and her wonderful pets, but none of those things are what she really wants. She really wants to tell him how they actually met — that they met under different circumstances and that she’s known who he is all along. Unfortunately, she can’t. She’s not human anymore, and she’s embowed with a power she doesn’t like having or feeling. She knows if she romantically involves herself with him he would either become a target or the inhuman side of her would eventually take over; meaning she would only be a danger to him. Either way, they just won’t work out. 

 Erica chews on her lower lip before she sucks in a breath. “I’m sorry…I just — ”

 Chris interrupts her, “Just what?”

 “I’m scared of what you’ll think of me.” She explains. It’s true — she’s absolutely terrified of what Chris will think of her. Not only is she ashamed of some parts of her life prior to Raccoon City, she’s deeply ashamed of what Umbrella did to her. It’s not her fault, but now it’s her responsibility to deal with it. Dealing with it includes who she will and won’t tell. She’s afraid that if she tells Chris he’ll call her a monster and never talk to her again, she’s afraid he’ll call her a liar and never talk to her again, and she’s afraid he just won’t like what he has to hear and will never talk to her again. No matter what way she looks at it, he probably won’t talk to her ever again. She knows she shouldn’t let these fears stop her, but it’s hard knowing she might put him or anyone else at risk.

 “Oh, I call bullshit.” He scoffs, “You know damn well I wouldn’t think of you any different even if you ran through the streets naked. I’d be confused, sure, but — ” Erica makes a face at his example, and he clears his throat to brush it off. “Sorry. But seriously, Erica. You don’t have to hide anything. I think you’re a great person. So what if you have some skeletons in the closet? Everybody does.”

 ‘Not like I do.’ She thinks to herself. She quite literally has some skeletons in her closet; six of them to be exact. She grabs her beer and takes a sip from it, mustering up the courage to tell him about her life. It’s not like Umbrella could use those silly facts against her — none of them are relevant to the information they’re after. Even though it might come back to bite her in the ass later, she can’t help but think “What the hell?” This is her chance to unveil the mystery that is her life; her real life. The life before she became… this . “Well,” She starts, “I’m the oldest of six siblings. Some from my mom, some from my dad. I, uh, don’t talk to the ones on my mom’s side.” She looks down at her feet. “I lived with my mom in a small town until I was twenty, and then I moved states to live with my dad.” She looks at him. “Turns out she wasn’t the best parental figure.” She jokes. “In school I was… not popular. Like, at all.” She laughs, “I was just a big loser.”

 “ What? You? I find it hard to believe that Erica Slater was a loser.” Chris retorts. “You had to have been the most popular girl at your school.” He smiles.

 “No, it’s true. By high school standards I was a loser.” Erica laughs. “But clearly they weren’t smart enough to see that I was the shit.” 

 “They weren’t smart enough to see how beautiful you are, either.” Chris subconsciously murmurs, and she happens to catch what he said. Did he just call her beautiful? Did those words really just come out of his mouth? She can feel her cheeks start to burn, and he looks at her when he notices her silence. His own cheeks begin to flare red, embarrassed at the realization of what he just said. 

 “You think I’m beautiful?” She asks, a smile threatening to pull at the corners of her lips. He stares at her. Well, he’s already made his bed, he might as well make it comfier to lie in. “Oh, I think you’re gorgeous.” Erica looks down sheepishly as the redness on her cheeks grows darker. “You’re a pretty good looking guy yourself.” She nervously puts a strand behind her ear, avoiding his eyes out of embarrassment.

 Something urges Chris forward, and he steps closer to her. It might be the alcohol or it might be the fact that she’s throwing all caution to the wind, but Erica doesn’t move away or stop him — even as he leans down closer to meet his face with hers. Her heart starts to pound as she looks up and into his eyes, and she feels like it could pound out of her ribcage any second. A whiff of his cologne fills her nose and, combined with the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol, the overwhelming scents make all of her anxieties wash away. She can feel his hot breath against her skin, and her stomach twists into a big knot in excitement. Her eyes flick from his eyes to his lips and she bites her lip.

 This riles Chris up enough to press his lips against her own. When their lips lock, they’re suddenly stricken with what feels like electricity. They immediately pull back from each other and stare into each other’s eyes, shocked by what just happened. 

 ‘Did I just shock him?’ Erica asks herself, while Chris finds amusement in it. ‘Heh, talk about sparks.’ He thinks as he grins at her. He goes back in for another kiss, sending a wave of electricity through Erica’s body. Erica smiles and relaxes into the kiss, moving towards him and placing her hands on his shoulders. He reciprocates by putting his hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him. 

 Her hands instinctively move into his hair, prompting him to slide his tongue over her lower lip. She moans into the kiss and opens her mouth up to him, allowing his tongue inside her mouth. He touches his tongue to her own and grunts in arousal. Her stomach begins to bubble with hunger, and the hunger grows when the two of them shift backwards. Her back is pressed against the building’s brick wall, and he places his hands underneath her buttocks to lift her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and placing a hand on her lower back to keep her up. The smell of his skin touches her nostrils, followed by the scent of his blood and flesh, and this causes her to grip the fabric of his shirt. A burning desire starts to rage between her legs and she grinds her hips into his own. He bucks his hips forward and bites her lower lip, pulling it back to look at her and smile before he goes back in to kiss her. 

 Erica’s hands travel to Chris’s lower back, and her fingers pull at the hem of his shirt. She can feel his hot skin underneath her cold fingers, and this makes a shudder run through his spine. The combination of euphoria, arousal, and hunger makes her sink her teeth into his lower lip; hard . Chris instinctively pulls away from her, taken aback by the sudden spike of pain. He can taste the blood on his lips and in his mouth, and this makes him chuckle. He didn’t know she liked it rough. “ Ow .”

 Erica can taste his blood on her taste buds, and the hunger inside of her makes her stomach gurgle again. He tastes so gOoD . As she swallows the remnants of blood, gratification instantly turns to a wave of fear that washes over her. She just bit him and made him bleed. It just happened; her worst fear came to life — she couldn’t control her hunger . “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

 “It’s ok — Woah .” 

 When Chris looks at her, he immediately notices that Erica’s eyes are glowing. He thought it was his imagination at first, but no, they are in fact glowing. It’s like a pair of ghostly blue orbs are staring back at him in the darkness. He’s taken aback by this, and he furrows his brows in confusion. “What’s up with your eyes?”

 Erica doesn’t have to look at herself to know what he’s talking about; she knows what he means. She knows he’s talking about those glowing eyes with the red scleras, and she knows now that this is probably the part where she's supposed to leave. She pushes him away so she can get down and slide herself into the window. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

 Chris stands there for a moment, still in disbelief at what he just saw. Were Erica’s eyes really glowing? Or is he just letting his imagination get the better of him? He doesn’t register that she’s leaving at first, but once he does he starts chasing after her. “Erica, wait — ” He says as he climbs through the window. She doesn’t give him any time to catch up to her, quickly grabbing her purse and heading towards the door. She has to get out of here. She just hurt him; she hurt him just like she knew she would. She knew her hunger was going to end up hurting him, and it just did exactly that. 

 “Erica!” Chris yells, and this causes Joseph and Forest to wake up from their slumber. They look around in confusion before they notice Erica rushing out the door. 

 “I’ll see you at work.” She quickly says before slamming the door behind her.

 Chris stops following after her once she’s out the door, and he frowns. “Dammit!” He mutters, and his two friends look at him before they look at each other. They decide not to say anything, believing it’s better to leave things alone rather than get involved. 

 Erica makes her way down the building’s stairwell as tears start to fill her eyes. She’s such an idiot; why did she think it was a good idea to kiss him? Why did she let it go on longer than she should have? Maybe there’s a part of her that just wanted to stop giving a shit about everything around her and give herself some pleasure for once, but it’s clear that she can’t even do that for herself without facing consequences. She’s going to be a freak for the rest of her days and there’s absolutely nothing she can do about it. She exits the front entrance of the building and stomps towards her car.

 She just needs to go home, cry out her feelings, and vent her frustrations. After unlocking her car door, she opens it before getting inside the vehicle. She closes the door behind her and shoves her keys into the ignition, starting the car. 

 Little did Erica know, however, that she was being watched as she backed out of the parking lot; watched by the very man assigned to find out every little detail he could about her just a little over a week ago. The past week has been practically uneventful, but now that something is happening Wesker’s interest is at an all time high. He leans back in the driver’s seat as she drives away, and he hums in thought. 

 He heard Chris and Erica’s entire interaction; luckily for him they shared their private conversation out on the fire escape. It tickles him yet enrages him at the same time. Wesker is glad Chris got her to spill details about her life; a strained relationship with her mother and siblings and on top of that social rejection. He wonders how he can use that information against her, but the attraction that led to Chris to kiss her turns his attention away from those frivolous facts. The apparent interest between them angers him, and he wants to figure out a way to take advantage of the situation. At least he won’t have to put a wedge between them; Erica seems to have put it there herself. The way Erica apologized to Chris, Chris asking Erica what was wrong with her eyes, and the way Erica stormed out of the building gives him so much to think about. What did she do to warrant an apology? What exactly was wrong with her eyes? Are her eyes the reason she left with such haste? 

 He wonders if Chris refers to the same look he’s seen out of the corner of his eye; that bright glow when he feels her eyes burning into him. As he loses himself in his thoughts, one particular thought crosses his mind and a smirk grows on the side of his mouth. He just got an idea for how he can lure her in, and there’s no way she can say no.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃February 23rd, 1998.
TIME: ┃4:39:01 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s only about twenty minutes until Erica can go home, and she’s currently sitting at her desk reading over some documents. She only has a couple of pages left to read through, and then she can go home. Home, sweet, sweet, home. She lets out a frustrated sigh. Today has been rough; she feels an immense guilt after her interaction with Chris and she’s been actively avoiding him — trying to figure out a way to be as short with him as possible. She’s embarrassed and horrified at what happened between them, and she’s instinctively pulled back from him in order to prevent it from happening again. It’s like she’s put herself right back to square one. She bit him and got a taste of his blood, and now everytime she gets a whiff of him she can feel her hunger rumble in her stomach, begging for her to devour his flesh. Even though she’s continued eating her substitutes, they seem to have no effect whenever he’s around. 

 Her eyes lift from the documents on her desk to glance at Chris from across the room, and a frown befalls her face. She wants to apologize to him for what happened, but how is she supposed to start that conversation? She can’t exactly start off with “Hey, sorry I tried to eat you and then stormed out of your apartment.” It doesn’t sound like a sincere apology now that she relays it over in her head, and she leans her chin against her hand as her look of sadness turns into a look of longing.

 She wishes things could be different between the two of them; she wishes she could be human again and run right into his arms without any hesitation — but she can’t. It’s not an option for her anymore, and she has to realize that. No matter how much Chris begs and pleads for a reason or even tells her he loves her, she has to make herself understand that not being involved with him is the best option. Being alone is, quite frankly, her best and only option. While it’s true she may have the intentions of earning Chris and Jill’s trust in order to tell them about Umbrella, she doesn’t have any intentions of being so close they’ll get hurt. If ignoring Chris will prevent him from getting hurt, then she’ll do it.

 Chris, on the other hand, wants to talk to Erica about what happened. He was a little weirded out by the fact that she bit him so hard he bled, but he doesn’t hold any hard feelings against her for it. However, he can’t seem to shake off the image of her eyes. They were literally glowing — it’s just not humanly possible for something like that to occur. It looked all the more horrifying when he noticed that the whites of her eyes had turned red. Maybe he just imagined it in the heat of the moment, but the more he thinks about it he isn’t so sure if that’s the case. Did Erica’s eyes really change like that? Or is Chris just trying to distract himself from how Erica left his apartment?

 He isn’t proud knowing he let her walk right out of his apartment without so much as a fight, but who would he be to do that? It’s not like they’re together, but there’s a large part of him that wishes that they could be. She’s kind and beautiful, they have similar interests, and she’s a great kisser on top of that. He could feel the sparks when their lips touched — figuratively and literally. He honestly regrets how things went down, and he wants to make up for it. He turns his attention towards Erica, and Jill notices for what seems like the one thousandth time today that he’s looked at her. He might as well take a picture; it will last longer. She sighs and looks at him. 

 “What’s up?” 

 “What do you mean?” He asks, breaking his focus and going back to his paperwork. 

 “Something is obviously bothering you. If I had a dollar for every time you’ve looked at Erica today, I’d own the damn bank.” She purses her lips, “Is something wrong?”

 Erica hears the mention of her name once it leaves Jill’s lips, and her body tenses. Why do people always have to talk about her when she’s around? Can’t she go one day without being the topic of conversation, much less hear what people have to say about her? She sucks in a breath. ‘Just ignore it, Erica. You don’t have much longer.’ She tells herself as she exhales, keeping her attention on her work.

 Chris ignores Jill for a few more seconds before he lowers the paperwork onto his desk in defeat. He can never lie to Jill, even if he tried. She just sees right through him. He leans back in his chair and rubs his neck. “Well…” He starts, “After the party this past weekend, Erica stayed to help me clean up and we talked a little. At some point during the conversation, we ended up kissing and she bit me hard enough to draw blood. When she realized what happened she freaked out and left my apartment in a hurry. She’s been ignoring me ever since, or at the very least being short with me.” He looks at the documents on his desk with a look of thought. There’s something else on his mind, too; he can’t get the image of Erica’s eyes out of his head. He wonders if he should leave that detail out, but maybe Jill can make sense of it. She’s good at that sort of thing.

 “But…there’s something else that I don’t know if I imagined or not…” He states. Erica feels like she wants to vomit as Chris explains to Jill what happened after the party, and her stomach rumbles in disgust. It hurts to hear him describe her cowardice, but that’s exactly what happened: she ran out like a coward. She crosses her legs and grits her teeth, terrified to hear what else Chris has to say. Jill stares at Chris as she listens to his explanation for his odd behavior. She knows what he said isn’t that big of a deal, but she can’t help but feel as if she should be worried. Chris said Erica bit him so hard she drew blood, and it makes her wonder what might have prompted that kind of response. From the sound of it it wasn’t intentional, prompting Erica to leave out of what Jill can only assume is embarrassment. She lets it slip her mind in favor of focusing on the next sentence that came out of his mouth. “What is it?” She inquires.

 Chris isn’t sure if he wants to tell Jill because it sounds so ridiculous, but if he doesn’t tell her he might lose his mind just trying to make sense of it. He sighs and turns to her. “When I pulled away from her, her eyes were glowing . I don’t mean in a metaphorical sense, either. I mean they were lighting up . It was really freaky,” He says, but follows this up with a shrug. “But I uh, I think I was just drunk, heh.” Now that it’s coming out of his mouth he isn’t so sure if he saw it or not. Was he really just imagining things? Or was the alcohol playing tricks on him? “I did have a lot to drink that night.”

 As Jill takes in Chris’s words, she’s taken aback by what he described. What does he mean Erica’s eyes were glowing? How is that humanly possible? He did mention that he had a lot to drink that night so maybe that’s the case. She’s never heard of anyone hallucinating glowing eyes while drunk, but she isn’t really sure how else she could rationalize something like that, and he probably isn’t sure either. She pushes her thoughts aside in favor of his little problem with Erica. It seems like Erica is pretty ashamed about the whole thing — which is understandable — so she decides to put Chris’s worries at ease. “I’m sure she’s just embarrassed by what happened. Give it some time and she’ll probably come to you to talk about it.” She comforts before agreeing with his latter statement. “Also, if I recall correctly, you, Forest, and Joseph killed a giant bottle of Jack Daniels’ that night. You probably weren’t thinking straight.”

 Erica’s jaw tightens when Chris tells Jill about seeing her glowing eyes, worried that Jill might question him even further. Luckily for her, Jill is known to keep a level head and her quick rationalizations make Erica feel less tense. Jill is incredibly right, but she’s also so very wrong; Erica is embarrassed by what happened, but Chris didn’t imagine anything. Her eyes were in fact glowing, and that’s immediately when she knew she needed to get out of there. She doesn’t need her monstrous side showing itself before she has a chance to properly explain everything. She hasn’t said anything yet for a lot of reasons, but one of them is because she isn’t even sure how to explain everything. How can you explain something like that?

 Chris can’t help but chuckle at Jill’s response. “Well, considering I don’t remember that I probably was just imagining things.” He’s glad he can come to Jill with a problem; she seems to always know what to say. Maybe she’s right. Maybe he really is just thinking too hard about it. Erica will come talk to him when she’s ready, and he’ll be waiting. He gives Jill a cheeky grin. “Thanks, Jill. You really know how to make someone feel better.” He says before turning to focus his attention on work.

 “Yeah…” Jill murmurs as she begins focusing on her own work, hoping that her shift will end soon.

  Erica places her paperwork down onto her desk, and she feels nauseous. She isn’t really in the mood to hear anymore conversations involving her — especially one that she isn’t ready to talk about herself — so she stands from her desk so she can head outside. Maybe she’ll have killed a few minutes by the time she gets back. 

 Jill catches her out of the corner of her eye getting up and walking towards the door, and she wonders if Erica might have heard their conversation or not. She purses her lips as she watches the woman leave the room, and she can’t help but feel a twinge of worry. Should she go talk to Erica? It’s not like it involves her or anything but since Chris and Erica are her friends, then she should probably see if Erica’s okay, too.

 Erica steps out into the hallway and takes a deep breath. She needs to get some fresh air just to clear her mind. She can’t take it in this office right now, even if she only has maybe fifteen minutes left to go — she needs a breather. There are so many things happening at once that she just needs to separate herself for just a moment to collect her thoughts. She clears her mind as she finds herself outside on the top floor’s balcony. The warm rays of the sun shine down on her when she walks outside, and she can’t help but smile at the heat warming up her body. She hugs herself as she approaches the railing, and her eyes stare out into the city’s landscape. She takes a deep breath of the fresh, outside air, and when she does the sound of the door opening behind her catches her ears. She doesn’t look to see who it is to know who it is, because the whiff of a familiar scent touches her nose — Jill’s scent.

 Erica turns and spots Jill walking towards her, and she purses her lips. What does Jill want? Did Wesker send her to come and get her? Can she just have a five minute break to herself without him breathing down her neck for once ? “Hi…” She mumbles, prompting Jill to give a straight, awkward smile. “You okay?” She asks.

 “Do I look like I am?” Erica questions with a sarcastic smile before she turns back around and scoffs at herself. She must look really pathetic. “I’ll go ahead and answer that for you. I’m not.”

 Jill walks up to the railing and leans against it. It’s clear Erica isn’t okay; the woman said it herself for crying out loud. “What’s wrong?”

 Erica stares up at the fluffy clouds in the sky, and she chews her lower lip. Should she tell Jill what’s going on? It might bite her in the ass later, but she just wants to talk to someone. If there’s anybody she wants to spill her feelings or problems to, it would be Jill. She knows her past friendship with Jill can’t be recreated, but maybe the two of them could make a new one; a new and better one. She could start making this new friendship better by asking her for some advice. “I don’t know if you’ve heard or not,” She starts, “But in case you don’t know — ” Erica looks at her. “After Chris and Forest’s party was over, I stayed to help clean up. Whenever I was about to leave, Chris asked me if I wanted to stay since it was late. I agreed, and when we started talking, it led to a kiss.” She pauses for a moment, still feeling the guilt pull at her. She looks down at her feet, afraid to look Jill in the face as she explains. “I accidentally bit him, and I just — I had to get out of there. I don’t know why I did that.” She says as her eyes start to water. She’s lying to herself; she knows exactly why she did that but it’s not exactly easy telling people you crave human flesh, much less that you were experimented on.

 Jill takes in the other woman’s words. In her opinion it’s not as embarrassing or as awful as Erica thinks it is — after all, it could be worse — but obviously it distresses Erica so she decides to reassure her. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up so much. I’m sure that Chris doesn’t hold any hard feelings against you for that.”

 Erica searches Jill’s eyes when she answers, and she looks down at her feet with a frown. She’s so tired of lying, but she has to lie. She has to keep everything under wraps — for the good of everyone. She hates feeling so conflicted like this… “It’s not that, I just — ” She says as tears start to form in her eyes. “I just have a lot going on in my life right now, and I personally don’t need to have any romantic drama added onto that.” She lifts her finger to dab away her tears, wishing she could be with Chris without having to worry that she might end up eating him. “It’s just so frustrating trying to juggle it all.” She laughs, trying to make light in spite of her pain. It’s true. These viruses are taking extreme tolls on her physical and emotional state; it’s not exactly easy dealing with all of your conflicting emotions and physical ailments at the same time. Especially when those physical ailments have a grotesque remedy; a remedy she’s unfortunately and inevitably started to crave again. Even now she can feel herself getting hungry again just from smelling Jill.

 Jill’s face softens when she notices her friend’s demeanor change. Is that why Erica acts so reserved at work all the time? Does she have a lot going on in her personal life? How bad could it be? Has she talked to anyone about it? More importantly, does she have any family or close friends she can talk to about it? “What’s going on?” She asks, immediately following up her question with a clarification that Erica doesn’t need to answer if she doesn’t want to. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

 Erica bites the inside of her lower lip before she responds. “I…can’t really tell you right now, I’m sorry. It’s really personal.” She looks at Jill. “Believe me, I want to, but I feel like you would look at me differently.” She frowns and stares off into the city line again. “ Everybody would look at me differently.”

 Jill takes in the other woman’s response and finds it strange the way Erica emphasized ‘everybody,’ but she decides it’s better to leave the topic alone than press further. “Don’t be sorry, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I completely understand.” Jill states. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” 

 Erica perks up at the inquiry, and now that Jill mentions it, there is something that she can do for her. It’s been a long time since the two of them spent the night together and had a Girls’ Night in. It won’t be the same as when Erica was Jill’s temporary roommate, but maybe it will help Erica feel better. Right now she just wants a friend that she can talk to and rely on. “Actually — ” She nervously laughs, “I-I know this might sound a bit childish but…would you like to come to my apartment this weekend for a sleepover? I mean, you don’t have to, I just thought it would be a — ”

 Jill interrupts her, “A sleepover sounds great.” She grins, “I don’t have anything planned this weekend, either.” The sound of a sleepover sounds promising; she doesn’t even remember the last time she had a sleepover. Well, one could say her cousin Jane’s recent visit into town would count as a sleepover, but Jill doesn’t particularly count it as a ‘sleepover,’ per se. It was more like ‘a relative is in town and staying the night’ rather than ‘a friend came over for a sleepover.’ She enjoyed the time she and Erica shared together during their recent outing, so she’s more than willing to offer the other woman company.

 “Great.” Erica smiles, and Jill can’t help but smile back in reassurance. “You gonna be okay?” She asks, and Erica straightens her lips and nods. “Yeah, I think I just need another minute.” She says, causing Jill to start walking away from the railing and back towards the door leading into the building.

“Alright. I’ll see you inside, then.” Jill remarks, leaving Erica to be by herself for a few moments.

 Once the door closes behind the S.T.A.R.S. member Erica swallows thickly. She may or may not regret inviting Jill over to her apartment, but hopefully it might give her a step in the right direction. If she stays on the right track, then maybe she’ll be close to getting the S.T.A.R.S. on her side to expose Umbrella and put an end to all this mess before it starts. Her stomach growls, and she bites her lip. The first thing she’s going to do when she gets home is eat; she’s starving…

 She takes another deep breath before she musters up the courage to return back inside the building.

 When she returns to the office, Jill offers her a reassuring smile and Erica gives her a straight smile in return. She quickly finds her seat back at her desk and resumes the remains of her work. Several minutes later, Erica looks up at the clock. 4:50. ‘God, can this day move any faster?’ She questions herself, sighing through her nose. Unfortunately, she realizes her day isn’t going to move that much faster when Wesker sticks his head out of his office.

 “Miss Slater, I hope it’s not too much to ask, but would you mind staying a little later this evening to help me with some paperwork?” 

  Wesker is expectantly waiting for her to answer and she’s thankful she’s able to keep her composure, because she feels like she would have vomited just from knowing she’d have to be stuck with him for not just a whole shift, but overtime, too. He must have some sort of motive behind his question; a motive that might involve him trying to lure her into a trap. She can’t let something like that happen, but she immediately tells herself she’s probably just letting her mind run rampant. All he did was ask her to work overtime; it’s not that harmful of an inquiry. 

 She wonders what she can do about Sherry, but chances are William or Annette Birkin already know that she’s working late. More than likely Wesker probably already told them she’d be working overtime before he even asked her.

 Erica turns around and puts on a fake smile, “Uh, sure. I don’t mind.” Her chest tightens and her stomach bubbles with nausea. Great . 

 Wesker gives her a grin of satisfaction, pleased that things are going according to plan. Ever since Oswell Spencer gave him a personal mission to get closer to Erica, he’s determined to finally get the answer for the question he’s been asking himself all this time: who is Erica Slater? Is she just an innocent bystander? Is she truly a biological weapon like he suspects? He wants to know — no, he needs to know. He needs to know about the woman that has preoccupied his mind since she stepped into the police department and into his office, and he will get what he craves even if that means making up work for her to do.

 “Excellent.” He replies before he leaves her to her devices, a content smirk lingering on the corner of his mouth. Once he’s back inside his office, Erica can’t help but slunk back in her chair. ‘If it ain’t one thing, it’s always another thing, isn’t it?’ She thinks.

⋆

TIME: ┃6:37:00 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Erica is currently sitting in Wesker’s office, scanning over some documents he had given her to double check. She was wary about doing this overtime — especially since she was going to be working with Wesker by herself — but since it’s been just the two of them he hasn’t so much as made a peep except to make a request or statement regarding the paperwork every once in a while. Even now as he sits across from her he’s minding his own business, quietly filling out said paperwork. It isn’t long, however, before Erica realizes she jinxed herself just thinking about it. 

 “So, tell me about yourself, Erica. Who is Erica Slater ?” Wesker inquires, breaking the silence and getting straight to the point. His inquiry makes Erica pause for a moment, trying to think of what to say. It’s weird that Wesker is asking her this.  ‘And it’s even more weird that I haven’t answered yet…’ She thinks before opening her mouth. 

 “Well, what do you want to know? I’m an open book.” She says, not breaking her attention away from her paperwork. 

 “What do you like to do in your free time? I’ve never heard you talk much about your interests or your hobbies during work hours.” He states, and he remembers her interest in artwork again. Maybe he could use that to his advantage, much like the other things up his sleeve. “During your interview you said you paint, yes? What do you like to paint?”

 “Oh, yes. I…” Erica stops and looks up, taken aback that he remembered much less asked about her special interest. This is Wesker after all; he doesn’t really give a damn about anyone but himself. She quickly shrugs it off before answering. “I guess you could say I just paint things I like or simply colors related to emotion. Like for example sceneries, objects, or symbols, or when I’m feeling happy or passionate I use bright, vibrant colors in an abstract style. My pieces usually depend on what mood I’m in.” She explains, and Wesker observes her, noticing how enthused she became by asking about her interest in art. She seems to be pretty passionate about it. “You’ll have to show me some of your artwork sometime.” He states, and Erica can feel her body become numb with confusion.

 Where did this sudden interest even come from? What is the point of this conversation? Is he just jerking her around for shits and giggles, or is he genuinely interested in getting to know her as a person? She knows Sherry mentioned something in the past about Wesker talking about her when she isn’t around, but she didn’t want to think anything of it. Does that have anything to do with the conversation happening right now? She forces down her confusion and looks at him, nodding in agreement at his statement. “Of course. I don’t mind.” Dammit. Why did you agree, you idiot?

 It becomes quiet after a while, and the air between the two of them becomes uncomfortable. She decides to shake off the discomfort by instead switching the topic from herself to him. Not like she wants to know anything about him — she just wants to get this stupid overtime done with. “What about you? What do you like to do in your free time?” She asks. It takes Wesker a moment to find an answer that will satisfy her. “Hm…I like to read.”

 “What kind of stuff do you like to read?” She questions. 

 “Science fiction and poetry.” He replies. He can’t help but smirk as she watches him with her attentive, glowing eyes. There she is again — that fiery vixen that stares right through his very soul — if he had one that is. “And you?”

 “Oh, I like science fiction as well, though I lean more towards horror or gothic science fiction — like Edgar Allen Poe.” She shoves some stray hair behind her ear, glancing down at the floor. “I know that sounds so cliche.” She nervously laughs, beginning to go on a tangent. “But I find his work to be tragically beautiful. Personally, his pieces about loss are my favorite. What’s love without tragedy, right?” She jokes, but deep down she isn’t sure if she’s joking. Tragedy seems to follow her whenever she loves someone, doesn’t it? Take Chris for example.

 Wesker didn’t think she would be so passionate about something as much as reading Edgar Allen Poe, but it piques his interest. He would never have expected her to be into poetry, much less a poet as dark and dreary as Poe. “It’s not cliche at all.” He remarks, “Is there a particular piece of his that you favor?”

 “Not really.” Erica can feel his eyes burning into him, and she looks at the void of his sunglasses. “But if I had to pick one it would be the Tell Tale Heart. I’m just fascinated at how well Poe describes guilt.”

 Over the course of her time here in Raccoon City, Erica has had her own guilt looming over her. She's been constantly questioning herself and her actions; ‘Why is she here?’ ‘What is she doing here?’ ‘What is the point?’ Every once in a while she’ll believe that coming here was a mistake — to this town and to this world. Her feelings just keep getting in the way of things; she can’t be around Chris, Jill, or any of the S.T.A.R.S. members without feeling remorseful, not to mention she can’t be around Wesker without feeling resentful. In regards to stopping Umbrella, she feels as if the only thing she’s done to stop Umbrella is expend a few of their expendables, and because of that she now has to worry about looking over her shoulder every passing minute of every day — even more so than she had been prior to their kidnapping attempt. You could say she likes the way Poe describes guilt because it describes exactly how she feels; guilty for lying about who she is, guilty for killing people, and guilty that she left Chris and Jill behind all those months ago.

 She isn’t sure if she can go on like this — at least not on her own. 

 With the pressure closing in on her, she wonders if she should finally tell Chris and Jill about what’s going on. It would solve all of her problems; she wouldn’t have to keep lying to the people she cares about, she could finally have the weight of her mission lifted off of her shoulders, and she would be able to take the next step in her plan — taking Umbrella down once and for all. 

 “But that’s just me.” She says as she glances back down to her paperwork, clearing her mind of her pestering thoughts.

 Wesker watches her as she returns to her work. Although he’s disappointed he hasn’t gotten as much information from her as he wanted, he’s glad he was able to get a small snippet of facts about this mystifying woman. She likes to paint, she likes to read — horror, science fiction, and gothic science fiction to be exact — and she has a particular interest in tragedy tropes. He surmises he’ll have to invest in fueling her passions, and perhaps it will bring him one step closer to getting her guard down. Butterflies tickle the lining of his stomach in excitement, and he finds this feeling odd. Why does she make him feel like this? Why does she make him feel so strange? He decides to brush it off, standing from his seat to take some documents to Chief Irons’s office. 

 “I’ll be right back.” He states. When he leaves the room, Erica relaxes in her seat with a relieved sigh. Finally, she can have some time to herself for a change.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s Apartment.
DATE: ┃February 28th, 1998.
TIME: ┃7:35:18 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s a little half past seven, and Jill should be coming over to Erica’s apartment any minute for their sleepover. Erica has gone out of her way to pull out a blow up mattress and decorate it with blankets and pillows alike to make the place comfortable for Jill, and she even arranged a basket of items for the two women to do and use during the evening; there’s some wine, face masks, nail polish, several movies to pick from, and even some tasty treats for them to snack on for said movies. There’s part of her that’s worried something might go wrong while Jill is here, but she tells herself everything will be just fine. She can control herself — she knows she can. Her incident with Chris was just an accident, and she won’t let it happen again. Plus, she has plenty of meat and blood jelly in the fridge. It’s not like she wasn’t sleeping in the same house as her family for all those months; she can last one night alone with Jill.

 The sound of footsteps approaching her apartment door makes her lift her head and pause, waiting for something to signal her to open the door.

  Knock, knock, knock .

 ‘Right on cue.’ She thinks to herself before she steps towards the door and takes a peep through the peephole. It’s Jill, just like she expected. She looks like she’s carrying a couple of pillows and a blanket, and she’s carrying some movies of her own. It’s not like Jill needed to bring the pillows or the blanket, but at least she brought some more movie options for the two of them to watch. The more the merrier, right?

 Erica opens up the door to greet Jill with a welcoming smile, “Hey, Jill!” She chirps excitedly, and the other woman smiles in return. “Hey, Erica.” Jill says before sheepishly lifting up her stash of movies, “I hope it’s okay that I brought some movies with me. I thought you might like to watch them.”

 The blonde woman’s stomach flips in circles with glee; she can’t wait for them to get started on their sleepover. The two of them can finally be close again, and maybe — just maybe — Erica can finally tell Jill about Umbrella. She wanted to start with Chris, but after thinking it over it probably isn’t such a good idea. After all, he isn’t known for taking things very well. Don’t get Erica wrong, she loves and respects Chris and all, but he tends to react to things rather than process them first. So, the smart decision would be to start with Jill and then Chris, but she doesn’t need to worry about bioweapons or plans or anything related to Umbrella right now — right now she’s going to focus on spending time with Jill.

 “Oh, it’s no problem. Matter of fact it’s great that you did. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to watch what I picked.” Erica awkwardly laughs before stepping aside and opening the door to allow Jill inside. “I hope you like the movie snacks I picked out, too.”

 A laugh escapes the brunette’s lips. “I’m sure I will. I’m not very picky.” Jill jokes as she enters the apartment, and once she does her eyes land on the blow up mattress. Clearly Erica was prepared for tonight; Jill didn’t even need to bring any pillows or a blanket, but it doesn’t hurt to have any extras, right? Maybe they could build a pillow fort considering how many there are.

 Erica closes the door behind Jill and walks over to her television to turn it on. She notices Jill standing there, seemingly waiting for Erica to tell her where to sit. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’m going to go make us some popcorn.” She says, prompting Jill to do as the other woman advised her to do. She finds a seat on the mattress, placing her pillows, blankets, and movies to the side as she looks around the apartment. She’s only been in here a couple of times, but she was never able to study everything inside. A variety of colors can be found on each of the walls — from artwork to knick knacks to decorations. It’s an all-around lively home. It brings a sense of comfort to her, and she smiles to herself as she watches Erica grab some popcorn from one of the cabinets.

 After she puts the popcorn bag into the microwave, Erica grabs the basket she prepared and brings it over to Jill. Jill is in bewilderment when she sees the basket; she didn’t think this sleepover was such a big deal to Erica, but obviously it is considering she put together a whole basket for the two of them to enjoy. She didn’t even know making a sleepover goodie basket was a thing, but oddly enough she likes the idea. The two women begin sifting through their many movie options and ultimately decide on watching I Know What You Did Last Summer before Erica takes the popcorn out of the microwave while Jill puts in the movie. Once the movie is put into the VCR, Erica pulls out a bowl from the cabinet and pours the popcorn in. Before she grabs the bowl from the counter, she makes sure to grab a couple of canned sodas from the fridge before she walks back into the living room. She hands Jill the bowl of popcorn, “Hold this for me please?” She asks.

 Jill nods, and Erica pulls the coffee table closer to the blow up mattress. She places their drinks on top of some coasters and joins Jill on the mattress. “You can just put it on the table there.” She says, and Jill promptly places the popcorn bowl on the coffee table, just within arm’s length for the both of them. “Thank you, ma’am.” Erica thanks as the movie previews start, and Jill laughs before grabbing herself a handful of popcorn. “You’re welcome.”

 At some point during the movie, they ended up eating all of their popcorn and turned to eating the snacks out of the basket. Once the movie was over, they used the face masks on their faces. They couldn’t help but giggle at how silly they looked, making goofy faces at one another to make the other laugh. When the face masks were finished, they moved on to painting each other’s nails. Erica went with a light teal, while Jill decided on a dark blue. Once their nails dried, Erica got up to put everything away. Unfortunately, as she got up one of the nail polishes fell out of her arms and rolled into the guest bedroom. 

 “Oh, great.” Erica laughs.

 “I got it.” Jill stands and heads after the bottle of nail polish. “Okay.” Erica smiles before she gets up to take the rest of the nail polish back to her room. 

 Jill flicks on the light to the guest bedroom and starts searching around the room for the rogue nail polish bottle, and when she doesn’t initially see it she gets on her hands and knees to see if it rolled underneath something. Her eyes spot it underneath a small drawer cabinet, all the way against the wall. She purses her lips and crawls over to the cabinet. When she reaches underneath it for the nail polish, her knuckle accidentally brushes against a hidden button. The distinct sound of a ‘click’ makes Jill jump, and she looks up to notice that a compartment opened up on one of the cabinet’s sides. Her curiosity gets the better of her and she takes a peek inside; what she sees, however, makes her brows furrow in confusion.

 There are massive bands of cash in multiple different currencies, passports, weapon permits, and a strange looking remote with two buttons labeled ‘RC’ and ‘H.’ While those things are strange enough, the things that catch her attention the most are the Umbrella logoed binders. One of them is at least four inches thick, while the other one is a standard one inch. Does Erica work for Umbrella or something? Why does she have all this stuff? More importantly, why is it hidden?

 “Did you find it, Jill?!” Erica calls out, catching Jill by surprise. She immediately pushes the compartment closed and reaches for the nail polish. She gets up and walks out of the guest room, flicking off the light and closing the door behind her. Jill lifts up the nail polish with a smile, “I got it.” She hands it out to Erica, and Erica grins. “Thank you.” 

 “You’re welcome.” Jill nods, finding her seat back on the mattress. She isn’t sure what she just saw, but it makes her wonder if Erica really is who she says she is. Is that what she meant the other day when she said she had a lot going on in her life? Is she living a double life or is there part of her life she’s trying to hide? No, that wouldn’t make sense. Why would she try to hide working for Umbrella? Loads of people in this town work for Umbrella; from working directly for them at the chemical plant or working indirectly through police department funding — one way or another Umbrella employs a large majority of Raccoon City’s population, including the police department’s very own S.T.A.R.S. team. Jill is pulled from her thoughts when Erica speaks up.

 “Do you want to watch anything else?”

 Jill was feeling tired and ready to go to bed, but after making her discovery she isn’t so sure if she wants to go to sleep. She wants to know what's in those binders, and if Erica can go to sleep she might have the chance to. She knows it’s wrong to invade someone’s privacy and go through their things, but something doesn’t sit right with her. Erica is hiding something; she can feel it. She swallows thickly before she answers. “No, thank you. I think I’m ready to call it a night.” She fake yawns, stretching as she does so.

 “Alrighty then.” Erica walks over to the front door and locks both the door knob and the deadbolt. She then flicks off the kitchen light, leaving only the lamp in the living room for Jill to see. “If you need anything, I’ll be in my room.” She states, and Jill nods. “Okay. Thank you.”

Erica steps into her bedroom, but just as she’s about to close the door she peers her head outside. “Goodnight, Jill.” She says sweetly, and Jill turns around. She eyes Erica for a moment before responding with a straight smile. “Goodnight, Erica.”

 “Sweet dreams.” Erica adds. 

 “Sweet dreams…” Jill mumbles, watching as the door closes behind her.

 As Erica climbs into bed, she reaches over to her nightstand and pulls out a new pair of ear plugs from a bag of assorted plugs. Ever since her senses were heightened back up again, she’s had to wear ear plugs just so she can get a full night’s sleep and, unfortunately, tonight won’t be any different. She sighs before sticking them in, switching off the lamp, and falling back on her pillows.

⋆

TIME: ┃12:02:19 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It feels like an eternity has gone by since Erica went to bed, and Jill can’t contain herself any longer. She has to know what’s in those binders. She crawls off of the mattress with one of the blankets, wrapping it around herself as she walks into the kitchen to check the time. It’s only been a little over an hour and a half since Erica went to bed, and when Jill looks at Erica’s bedroom door she notices the absence of light shining underneath the door. Erica must definitely be asleep by now, and this urges Jill to move towards the guest bedroom. She turns on the guest bathroom light and closes the door in case Erica comes out of the bedroom and wonders where she is. Once she does this, she carefully and quietly opens the guest bedroom door before gently closing it behind her. She tiptoes over to the lamp standing next to the armchair and turns it on, squinting for a moment as her eyes adjust to the light.

 She gets onto her knees so she can feel for the secret button from earlier, and once she finds it she presses it.

 The hidden compartment from earlier pops right open again, and Jill pulls it open to unveil the strange items. She reaches in and grabs the smallest of the binders, and when she looks at the front she spots a sticker labeled “Test Subject # 2-7-7-0-0.” ‘’Test subject?’ What did Umbrella test on exactly? She’s aware that Umbrella researches and tests vaccines, but something about this just doesn’t sit right with her. She furrows her brows and opens the binder, eager to find out what’s inside.

⋆

   Report from Dr. Albert Wesker

DATE: February 25, 1998.

 On the night of January 16 of this year, an electrical phenomenon occurred that resulted in a signal caught on radar. A team was sent to the area to investigate the occurrence. At the same time, however, two S.T.A.R.S. members, Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine, were called to the outskirts of Raccoon City in response to a body sighting. They brought Jane Doe to the hospital where a blood sample was acquired by Annette Birkin. Valentine then took Jane Doe, who later identified herself as Starr, into her home. Tests showed that Starr’s blood made her a viable test subject, and instructions were given to pursue her. An extraction team was sent to Valentine’s apartment on January 27, but Starr evaded capture and headed to the RPD. There were too many witnesses to the spectacle and orders were given to keep a distance.

 Her capture was rescheduled and Starr was successfully captured last night at 11:00 PM from Valentine’s home. She was taken to the underground facility beneath Raccoon City, the NEST. She has been placed in a testing chamber until further instruction.

Dr. Albert Wesker

Umbrella Inc.

A.W.

⋆

 TEST SUBJECT 27700

 NAME: Starr Erica Slater

PRIMARY DOCTOR: Dr. Albert Wesker

SECONDARY DOCTOR: Dr. William Birkin

 SEX: F

 RACE: Caucasian

 EYE COLOR: Blue

 HEIGHT: 5’5” 

 WEIGHT: 147 lbs

02 - 28 - 98

 Subject has been in a drug induced stasis for an extended period. Vital signs which include heart rate, respiration, blood pressure, and bodily temperature are at normal levels. No indication of any life threatening diseases and/or health conditions.

 Expected to wake up soon. Testing will begin shortly.

03 - 01 - 98

 Subject has lied about her identity and has revealed “Starr” was a cover up. Claims to know of her circumstances. Uncertain if this implicates experiments carried out by Umbrella.

 Subject also claims to have the ability to contact individuals through the brain's subconscious and predict future events. Further tests needed to support this claim.

 Experimentation is scheduled to begin on 03 - 03 - 98.

03 - 08 - 98

 Progenitor Strain A administered. Subject has had little to no reaction.

03 - 15 - 98

 Progenitor Strain B administered. Subject developed fever and nausea but began to recover after regurgitating. A second dose is scheduled for 5:00 PM.

03 - 24 - 98

 Progenitor Strains A and B have been removed from testing trials. Data gathered concludes the subject is immune to the A and B Strains. T-Virus Strain a testing trials are scheduled to begin at 8:00 AM.

03 - 29 - 98

 Subject has suffered bodily pains, high blood pressure and body temperature, nausea, fatigue, and has remained bedridden since 03 - 25 - 98. One of our researchers was sent in to perform a quick diagnostics test when the subject attacked him and ripped out his throat. After cannibalizing the researcher’s throat, the subject was expected to lose her intelligence and end up a failure, but she miraculously retained her intelligence. She further surprised researchers when she expressed remorse by asking for assistance with the dead researcher before covering the body with a sheet. She then began to pray over the body.

 When the clean up team was sent in to retrieve the researcher’s body, the subject kept her distance and in a far corner. Once the clean up team left she cried and went to sleep on the floor.

 Researchers have noted she turns her head at the slightest sounds and smells, alluding to sensitive hearing and smell. Further tests are underway to prove these theories.

04 - 08 - 98

 Subject has seemingly adjusted to the T-Virus a Strain. T-Virus Ɛ Strain testing trials are scheduled to begin at 10:00 AM.

04 - 15 - 98

 T-Virus Ɛ strain administered. Subject’s fever-like symptoms have returned. Blood pressure is erratic and bodily temperatures are rapidly changing.

04 - 22 - 98

 Subject’s body seems to be violently rejecting the Ɛ Strain compared to the other strains. The subject has suffered previous symptoms such as bodily pains, high blood pressure and body temperature, fatigue, and has been bedridden for a second time since 04 - 09 - 98. When the research team entered the room to run tests, the subject began screaming and, based on witness accounts, it was recorded that multiple B.O.W. test subjects were shrieking along with her in various parts of the facility. The screams of the B.O.W.s lead our research team to theorize she may or may not have some kind of connection with other infected subjects. Further tests will be conducted to support this theory.

The intensity of her screams cracked what was supposed to be indestructible, military-grade glass. The subject could not be sedated and fought off multiple staff members before they were ordered to let her go. She ran to  the opposite side of the room and cowered until her body over-exerted itself and fell unconscious. 

 After researchers failed to resuscitate her via defibrillator, Dr. William Birkin administered an experimental dose of the G-Virus Strain. A pulse could not be found for several minutes but at 12:00 AM, midnight on the dot, a pulse was found. The subject was successfully resuscitated but she did not regain consciousness. Her body has been ordered to be on constant surveillance.

05 - 05 - 98

 Subject has remained in an unexplainable stasis for an extended period, although she has had a massive rise in brain activity. Vital signs which include heart rate, respiration, blood pressure, and bodily temperature are returning to normal levels. 

05 - 25 - 98

 Subject is still in an unexplainable stasis. Previous rise in brain activity has lowered back down. Stimulants to induce consciousness have been used, but no reaction has occurred. 

06 - 14 - 98

 The subject’s blood has been sampled for other test subjects, but it has been deemed unstable to use for testing. Every experiment has led to the death of every test subject. 

 Numerous test subjects became mentally deranged and began screaming “Nothing is real!” at the top of their lungs as they ripped off their faces. Some of them smashed their heads into glass while a majority screamed in agony before they simply went limp and died. 

 If that isn’t jarring enough, many subjects suffered heart attacks or hemorrhaging as their cause of death — though the cause of these occurrences are unknown.

07 - 08 - 98

 Subject has been placed in cryogenic storage until consciousness is regained. Non-senior staff are restricted from the area.

07 - 27 - 98

 Dr. William Birkin has now solely taken over the project after the disappearance of Dr. Albert Wesker, and the subject has been removed from cryogenic storage. She has been relocated to one of the North Labs for further testing. Testing has been scheduled for Monday next week at 9:00 AM.

08 - 03 - 98

 A second dose of the G-Virus was administered, and approximately a minute later the subject’s heart skipped a beat and her eyes shifted from side to side underneath her eyelids. No signs of consciousness have been found as of yet.

09 - 18 - 98

 Umbrella Europe has requested for the subject to be transferred to one of their facilities, but Dr. William Birkin has yet to comply with the request. A meeting discussing this trade will be held next week.

⋆

 Jill’s mind immediately begins to run rampant with questions. Is this real? No, there’s no way this is real. How could any of this be real? It sounds like something straight out of a horror movie. How could something like this even be possible? Not even that — why are there entries listed under dates that haven’t even happened yet? This has to be a joke or some kind of elaborate prank. Jill doesn’t remember finding Erica on the outskirts of town, she doesn’t remember taking her to the hospital or taking her home, and she doesn’t remember her getting kidnapped. Why doesn’t she remember any of this? Why can’t she remember? Is that why Erica has been so familiar all this time? Has she been in Jill’s life without her even realizing it? Would Chris know anything? Why hasn’t he mentioned anything about it? Jill wants to deny what she just read, but it’s right in front of her face for Christ’s sake. 

 Not even that, but there are pictures to support the data entries legitimacy. Even though her hair color is different, there’s no denying that the woman in the pictures is Erica. The people accompanying Erica in some of the pictures are in fact Jill and Chris, and it makes Jill’s stomach gurgle with nausea. 

 The bizarre nature of the data entries don’t even begin to touch on the implications of what the entries mean. Has Umbrella really been experimenting on people? Was Erica really experimented on? Did she actually die and come back to life? Why would Umbrella do something as horrible as this, and why is Captain Wesker of all people involved? Did Wesker and this Dr. William Birkin actually kill her? The revelations come crashing down on Jill all at once, and she finally understands why Erica has been so elusive all this time. She finally understands why Erica was afraid to tell her why she doesn’t like their captain. She finally understands that Wesker helped kidnap Erica, experiment on her, kill her, and revive her — along with the help of some man named William Birkin.  

 Jill observes the pictures of Erica in captivity; her face is hidden by her hair in some of them, but in others Jill can see her tear stained cheeks and dark circles underneath her eyes. She looks so afraid and broken, ready for the sweet embrace of death to save her from her captors. Then, in the next picture, she’s laying on top of an operating table — with every ounce of life ripped away from her body. In one of the final pictures, her body is floating naked inside of a cryogenic tube, put on some kind of sick display for anyone to gawk at. It makes Jill want to vomit, but she covers her mouth to prevent any bile from spilling out of her mouth. She swallows it, groaning in disgust when it stings the back of her throat. 

 How could someone do something so vile to another human being? How could a multi-million dollar company use their position in power to experiment on its unsuspecting citizens? What other kind of horrors could they be committing unbeknownst to the world? She doesn’t want to know; she’s already found out enough for one day.

 She closes the binder and quietly puts it back right where she found it, gently pressing the hidden compartment shut. She sits in the armchair, silent as she tries to register all that she’s just learned. Is this really why Erica has been so reserved all this time? Has she been hiding herself from her and the other S.T.A.R.S. members because she’s afraid she’ll hurt them? Jill thinks back to her conversation with Erica the other day, and she questions if that’s what Erica meant when she said “everyone will look at me differently.” Is she afraid they’ll see her as a monster? 

 A migraine starts to form, and Jill massages her temples. She doesn’t want to believe that any of this is real, but something in the back of her mind is telling her it is. Although she doesn’t remember, the more she replays in her mind what she read she feels like all of this has actually happened. Even if she does believe it happened, what is she supposed to do now? How is she supposed to prove that this is real? What would Erica say if she was confronted about it? What would happen if Umbrella was exposed for something like this? She sighs out of frustration, turns off the lamp, and stands up from her seat. She quietly makes her way across the dark room and back into the just as dark hallway, quietly closing the door behind her. She opens the bathroom door and turns off the light before returning to the living room and finding her place back on the blow up mattress.

 Jill lays there for a moment, silently staring up at the ceiling wondering what she should do. She would probably sound like a lunatic if she tried to tell anybody what she read and saw, and for some reason she feels like it’s better to just keep this all to herself for now. Who knows what events might occur because she talked about something she probably shouldn’t have; she could put someone in danger. More specifically, she could potentially put herself, Chris, and Erica at risk. She rubs her hands across her face before sliding them down to her sides. 

 She’s just going to pretend like she never even read that blasted binder in the first place; if anybody asks, she doesn’t know a damn thing. If Erica asks, she was asleep the entire time.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃███.
PLACE: ┃█ ███, ████.
TIME: ┃█:██:██ ██.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

The first thing Erica can make out once she comes to is the smell of flowers, and she sits up to look around. She’s somewhere familiar — a place she hasn’t seen in a long time. This is the place she was in all those months ago; trapped inside of her mind while she was trapped inside the NEST facility. The baby blue sky above is decorated with clouds made of fluff, and the green fields that surround her stretch for miles and miles. The green scenery around her is adorned with a variety of flowers: daisies, roses, forget-me-nots, tulips, and even poppies. There are many, many more flowers to gawk at, but when she turns her head she’s suddenly face to face with Sol. Her breath hitches and her body tenses. Why can’t this asshole just walk up to her like a normal person? Why does it always have to scare the shit out of her every time it wants to talk to her? 

 Erica doesn’t hear what it says when its mouth moves, too focused on how uneasy its appearance makes her feel. When she looks into its terrifying eyes, however, its words come to her as clear as day. 

 “Erica, listen to me clearly.”

 Her body suddenly surges with a feeling of extreme pain, and it’s vicious as it mercilessly eats away at her intestines and organs. The pain sucks the life right out of her, forcing her to keel over and hug her stomach. Her eyes fill with tears, and she begins sobbing. She just wants this to stop — she wants to stop feeling like this. As she quietly cries to herself, Sol stands above her staring down at her. It watches her as she pathetically wallows in her pain before squatting down to her level. “If you want it to stop, you need to feed .”

 “No.” Erica  whimpers, “I don’t .”

 Sol tilts its head curiously. It has never understood Erica’s stubborn nature, but during its time inside of her brain it has figured out how to persuade her. It needs her to understand the cause and effect of her actions. “You wish to keep your hunger under control, yes?”

 Erica knows how to keep her hunger under control, but she refuses to do it; she refuses to eat anymore people, no matter what kind of manifestation may urge her to do so. She’s been doing just fine living off of red meat and blood jelly, but as the pain surges through her stomach there’s part of her that starts to retract that thought. She’s actually doing a shit job at keeping it under control. So much so, her body decided to take what it needed for itself from those Umbrella officers. It probably won’t be long until it decides to take what it needs again if she doesn’t do anything about it. She grunts out of pain and frustration, “How am I supposed to do that?” 

 “ You know how — You simply do not want to do it.” Sol states.

 “But why does it have to be people?” She asks, “Why do I have to eat people ?!” She snaps, lifting her head to look up at Sol. Sol is emotionless as always, but it reaches its hand up and strokes her face. “You do not have to eat innocent humans. Criminals and evil doers alike roam Raccoon City’s streets just as much as they roam your very workplace. That being said, you have a supply of food at your very fingertips. Yet you refuse to partake in it because you allow your guilt to eat away at you instead of being grateful.”

 Erica scoffs. “You expect me to be grateful that I eat people?”

 Sol is silent, staring at her with its blank eyes before it responds. “You expect to get revenge on Umbrella and its employees, but you allow your insecurities to stop you. You believe that if you kill them, you will be just as bad as they are. Do you think that they felt guilty about what they did to you? Do you think they felt any remorse for subjecting you to agony? Do you think they regret ‘ruining your life?’ No, they do not. Just as I do not regret infiltrating this body.” A tear drips from Erica’s eye as Sol calls her out on her behavior and she looks down at the ground, but Sol forces her to look back up at its horrifying appearance. “I told you when we first met I chose to let you live because of your valor — and I meant what I said. You may be a stubborn child, but you are an incredibly determined and passionate one.” It lets go of her face, lowering its hand to its side. “Use the powers I gave you, Erica.” It says, “As you humans call it — ‘ give them hell .’”

 Erica suddenly sits up in her bed, and her face is wet from tears. She wipes them away with her shirt and sniffles. She sits in silence for a few moments before sighing. Sol is right. Why is Erica so terrified all the time? Why does she keep lifting herself up only to tear herself back down? She already said she would resort to violence if she needed to, but she didn’t say she would seek it out intentionally. That’s not what she’s trying to do — she’s trying to be as tactical as possible — but how can somebody be tactical about eating people? It’s not like she can just grab someone off the street. Someone is bound to notice, and by someone she means Umbrella. She runs her hands through her hair before laying back down. 

 Her head starts to hurt, and it makes her decide to worry about what Sol said tomorrow. Right now she’s just plain exhausted . She closes her eyes and relaxes into her mattress before she eventually drifts back off to sleep.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Arklay Mountains, Raccoon City Forest.
DATE:  ┃March 3rd, 1998.
TIME: ┃12:34:27 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Erica cuts off her car’s engine and removes the keys, leaning back in her seat as she listens to the engine cool down. The sound of crickets and an owl hooting are heard in the distance, and after a few seconds of silence she unbuckles her seatbelt. She opens her door and steps out, closing it and shoving her keys into her pocket. Her eyes adjust to the darkness and once they do she can see the light of the moon illuminating the environment around her. She glances up to stare at the big and bright full moon staring back at her. Tears stain her face, and they glisten underneath the moon’s rays. 

 She lets out a sigh and leans against the side of her Corvette, folding her arms as she looks at the view of Raccoon City. Today really sucked; she didn’t sleep very well last night, and the nightmare that plagued her mind kept distracting her from her work and at times everybody around her. She was forced to look at Chris’s face all day, and that didn’t make it any better. She desperately wishes she could tell him why she’s been avoiding him, but it’s just not the right time yet. To top it all off, Jill has been acting strange lately, too. The brunette now comes across as if she’s afraid of Erica, and it’s made Erica feel even worse. She wants to tell the both of them everything, but the endless possibilities that Umbrella could be listening, they don’t believe her, or they end up being put in danger because of her makes her reluctant. She knows it’s just her insecurities getting to her like Sol said, just like it said her hunger is. 

 Erica knows what she has to eat, but she wonders if she can hunt some wild animals instead; thus, leading her to drive out to the Arklay Mountains in search of something to feast on. It’s not the same thing, but hopefully it might be just as good. It’ll be the same thing as hunting, but more primal and violent. Her stomach gurgles at the thought, and she takes a deep breath. She can smell everything the forest has to offer; the earthy scent of dirt, pine straw, tree sap, many different animals like squirrels, foxes, and —

 She smells again.

  Sniff , sniff .

 — there’s something else in these woods; something inhuman lurking around in the shadows, howling out for her and its brethren. She swallows thickly. Should she walk in that direction? She isn’t so sure she should, but it’s like something is calling out to her, asking her to come and seek it out. Her curiosity starts to eat away at her, and she cautiously decides to head in the direction of the presence. The closer she gets, the heavier her chest becomes. It becomes harder and harder to breathe and it’s like someone is placing their weight upon her ribcage, becoming so heavy that her ribs might snap and break. It still doesn’t stop her from pressing forward. She starts to take low, deep breaths as she continues walking, and when she looks up she comes to a stop.

 The image that made her stop in her tracks is the old Umbrella training facility — the same building where she ate and killed all those Umbrella officers. Why is she being led back here? What is calling out to her? Is it inside this building? She looks around to make sure she isn’t being followed before she slips through the metal fence and into the building. She immediately scrunches her nose up at the smell, disgusted by the horrendous pheromones that obliterate her senses. The building is still saturated in the stench of dust, mold, and the ever lingering scent of death at every corner just like the first time she was in here. She walks around the main area, holding her shirt over her nose. It doesn’t really help that much, but it masks the smell a little. 

 When she stops in the center of the room, everything goes silent and she freezes. A ringing stings her ears, and she whines in discomfort before a shriek suddenly rings out from above. When her eyes gaze up towards the ceiling, they widen in horror. Covering the entire ceiling is an enormous nest of what look to be large leeches, and she gasps. What the hell ? She feels sick to her stomach as one falls down towards her, and she steps back in repulsion when it begins writhing on the floor.

 More and more leeches begin to fall onto the floor, piling onto one another. Her chest starts to burn and her nails begin extending into long talons, preparing herself in case something goes awry. The wet, sticky sounds fill her ears, and her face contorts into repugnance. ‘Ugh, it just sounds so nasty .’ She thinks.

 As the creatures take form into a large, lumpy blob they hunch over, dropping a few of the leeches onto the floor in the process. The fallen leeches simply crawl back to the horde, and Erica’s heart races as it slowly transforms into a man; an old man. Her eyes practically bulge out of her head when she recognizes it as James Marcus, one of the Umbrella Corporation’s founders; the same founder whose portrait is hanging on the wall behind her.

 Once the transformation is complete, the imitation of Marcus folds his arms behind his back and gives Erica a smile. “Ah hello there, young lady.” 

 Erica maintains her distance, wary of him. She’s confused and taken aback by what’s going on. She is very well aware of who this is; he takes part in one of the Resident Evil games wherein one of Umbrella’s founders comes back from the dead after a T-Virus infected leech he had experimented on merged with his brain. After merging with his brain over the course of ten years, the leech rejuvenated him and believed itself to be James Marcus himself, intent on getting revenge on Umbrella for killing him. More specifically — revenge on Albert Wesker, William Birkin, and Oswell Spencer. Oswell Spencer betrayed someone he once called a friend over jealousy, and he groomed and ordered James Marcus’s own two pupils to take him out. 

 Erica had been so focused on the outbreak of September 23rd that she had completely forgotten about the outbreak of May 11th — which was ultimately caused by Marcus himself. Shit .

 “What do you want from me?” She asks, watching him closely.

 “I smelled you in here not too long ago, and your existence piqued my curiosity.” He starts to stroll, and Erica promptly keeps herself as far away from him as possible. “I apologize for my youngling attacking you that night. It was too far away from me to perceive what you were.” He says as he walks up to his portrait, inspecting it in a vain manner. “I wanted to know how someone like you came to be…after all, twas I who created the T-Virus. I should be aware of who and what creatures have successfully bonded with it.” His voice cracks for a moment, and she furrows her brows. There’s no way in hell she’s going to tell him anything; she can’t risk him using that kind of information against her, but as far as she knows he has no qualms with her. Although she should be concerned about killing him — she’s not his priority. Umbrella is.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” She plays dumb, keeping any specific details to herself. She needs to get out of this place, get back to her car, get back to her apartment. She did not come out to these woods with a strong appetite, a broken heart, and a guilty conscience to have some weirdo make her feel even worse. His presence just annoys her already, and she’d very much like to go home now. 

 “Don’t play coy with me. I know that you’re infected. You wouldn’t have come if you didn’t hear me calling.” He states, and she narrows her eyes at him. “Why is it any of your business?”

 Marcus’s face turns sour before he straightens it and turns to her. “I believe it is my business seeing as you killed some of my enemy’s men.” He chuckles. “I have to give you credit — you killed all of those officers beautifully . I was very impressed with your handiwork.”

 His words sting, making her muscles stiffen. That’s not the compliment he thinks it is, and it sure as hell isn’t making her feel better about this whole encounter. “Yeah, well I shouldn’t have killed them.” She retorts, “Just like I shouldn’t have been turned into a freak like you.”

 “Oh, no, my dear. You and I are no freaks.” Marcus clarifies, keeping his composure after her insult. “You’re a work of art — a beautiful creation just like me .” He starts to approach her, and his appearance slowly changes to that of his younger self. He’s now dressed in some kind of white robe, his hair is long and a dark brown, and his eyes are a striking blue. It makes her shudder watching him contort and transform into a different version of himself. “You and I could become one and destroy Umbrella together .” His voice has changed too, but the sound of it just makes her feel even more cringe. She scoffs at his comment, careful as he walks up to her. “You just want to kill everybody. We are not the same.”

 “Oh?” He raises a brow, “You say that as if you haven’t killed people already.”

 “That was different — ” She starts, but he cuts her off before she can continue.

 “How so? You know you killed them — you know precisely how angry you were and how much hatred was inside your body that night. You wanted to kill them. Your anger was so loud I could hear it from the depths of this facility.” He laughs at her. 

 Erica is taken aback by his statement, but she doesn’t let his words get to her. She didn’t want to kill those people. He doesn’t know a damn thing about her. She stands back and her stomach gurgles in revulsion just by looking at him. “With all due respect, I think I can take on Umbrella on my own.” She says, and she means it; she absolutely will take them all on her own. It’s been proven time and time again that she can come back from the dead as many times as she wants — no matter what they throw her way. Not even a biological weapon such as the one before her can destroy her. He can try, but she’ll put up the biggest fight she’s ever had in her life just to kick his ass. She already killed one of his leeches — what’s a few hundred thousand more?

 Marcus’s expression turns into that of anger, and he sucks in a breath. “That’s… disappointing . You should have just agreed.”  

 His body starts to shake, convulsing violently as his form deteriorates. Leeches leak from his body and fall out onto the floor, and she backs away before turning and bolting towards the exit. She’s got to get out of here — now ! 

 As she tries to make her way out of the never ending maze, she’s met by a clump of leeches at every corner she turns. No matter where she looks, there’s a leech ready to greet her. She screams when she runs into a room crawling with leeches, covered head to toe by the black, slimy creatures. Her stomach flips over in circles in annoyance and she grits her teeth. “Why don’t you just die already?!” 

 Clumps of leeches throughout the room immediately begin bursting into flames, squealing out in pain as they fall to the floor and burn into nothing but ash. An angry howl rumbles through the facility in response, and her heart skips a beat. Holy shit . Did she really just do that? She did — she did just do that — she just burned those things without touching them. She knew she could do it before, but that was just one time. Her mouth twitches in awe before she runs through the trail of ash bodies and, at some point through the leech filled madness, she’s able to find the entrance she entered and runs right through it. She runs so fast that she doesn’t have enough time to catch herself from running straight into a large hole. She trips, landing face first into a massive pile of leaves. She spits out the dirt that comes in contact with her mouth, and she doesn’t waste any time gathering herself off of the ground and taking off in the direction of her car.

 It doesn’t take her long to get there, and once she’s at her vehicle she flings the door open to get inside. She catches her breath before putting the key into the ignition and starting the car. ‘Time to get the fuck out of here.’ She thinks as she backs out and pulls away from the area.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Arklay Mountains, Raccoon City Forest.
DATE: ┃March 4th, 1998.
TIME: ┃11:36:01 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 John Clemens, the Arklay Laboratory’s Chief of Research, is hunched over his desk jotting down some notes. His office is in complete disarray; papers are all over his desk and floor, books are pulled from shelves scattered about, and his chalk board has frantic scribbles written from top to bottom. His girlfriend, Ada Wong, is currently trying to pick up some of the mess and organize it for him, but in the midst of cleaning up something catches her eye. She spots a polaroid peeking from underneath a document, and she leans down to pick it up. When she turns it over, she notices that it’s a picture of an attractive young woman with white hair and striking, icy blue eyes. ‘Hm. She’s pretty.’ She muses, ‘But who is she?’ The photo isn’t labeled, and this pique’s her interest.

 Ada steps over to John and holds out the polaroid in front of his face, “Who’s this?”

 John glances up at the picture for a moment before back down to his notes, thinking nothing of it at first. Immediately he does a double take because he recognizes the picture as extremely classified information.  He wishes he could brush it off in hopes she’ll leave it alone, but he knows Ada better than that. She isn’t stupid. He may as well state the truth.

 “That is classified information.” He states, going back to his notes. Well, he did tell her the truth. It’s just probably not the one she wanted to hear. She frowns at his response. “John…” She puts the polaroid on his desk and puts her hands on his shoulders. “You trust me don’t you?” She leans her head down onto his shoulder, and he can’t help but melt underneath her touch. He sure is lucky to have gotten such a hot girlfriend and he thanks whatever god is out there for it every morning, but he can’t just go spilling information willy nilly. He could get fired — or worse . Umbrella doesn’t play; with anyone for that matter.

 “O-Of course I trust you, Ada. I just don’t think I’m at l-liberty to — ”

 A hand slinks down his chest, and Ada presses her lips against his ear. “Liberty to what?”

 John clears his throat. He’s going to have his ass removed and handed right back to him if he tells her this, but right now makes him believe it would prove to be totally worth it. “W-Well, she’s uh,” He lowers his voice to a whisper, “Her name is Erica Slater. She’s rumored to be one of Umbrella’s top priorities right now, so much so that she’s caught the attention of Oswell Spencer himself.”

 “What makes her so special?” She questions in her own hushed voice, using her free hand to play with his hair.

 He puts down his pen to focus on the attention she’s giving him, plus their conversation. “I’ve been told she’s suspected to be a biological weapon of some sort, but there haven’t been any records of her being a test subject. A few theories have been passed around; she was a test subject that was left undocumented, a rival company experimented on her, or it’s all a sham.”

 Ada takes a long pause, registering his words. After her moment of silence she speaks up. “What do you think?” She asks.

 “I don’t know.” John sighs. “I just know I have to do as I’m told and look as hard and as long as I need to to discover who she is.” He looks at her with a frown. “But it’s been over a month and we haven’t been able to find shit . She’s practically a ghost.”

 “I’m sure you’ll find what you need. You’re good at finding things.” She moves her hands back to his shoulders and stands upright.

 “So are you.” He says, “Mind giving me some help?” He smiles, swiveling around in his chair in order to face her.

 She laughs, “I think I’m helping you enough to organize this room you call an office.” She backs away from him and walks over to the other side of the room to retrieve her purse. “I think you can handle that on your own. Besides, I have some errands to run.” She says. She steps back over to him and kisses him on the cheek. “Do you want me to get you something while I’m out?”

 His smile straightens when she pulls away, a little disappointed she has to go so soon. Fortunately for him, she said she’d be back later. Hopefully they can continue where they left off. “Uh, yeah. If you could grab me a coffee that’d be great.”

 “Will do.” She grins, “Bye, John. I’ll see you later.”

  “Goodbye, Ada.” He replies, and she opens the door to walk out.

 Ada closes the door behind her, and once she hears the distinct ‘click’ she begins journeying through the facility towards the entrance. She passes by other employees and staff members, giving them a nod of recognition or a friendly smile. She heads down several sets of stairs and through multiple rooms before she finds her way out and promptly shows her I.D. to security. 

 Once she’s outside of the Spencer Estate’s walls, her friendly demeanor falls. Now it’s time to run those errands; errands that include informing her employer about her recent discovery. Her true employer — a pharmaceutical company that rivals Umbrella — is a corporation known as “The Agency” or “The Organization.” It’s all the same, really. Not only are they heavily interested in the T-Virus, but they would be absolutely thrilled to know that there’s a biological weapon walking around Raccoon City, open for the taking. Not only would they achieve a sample of the T-Virus, but now a live test subject for their own biological experiments. 

 Ada wonders how such a thing could have occurred without anyone knowing but at the end of the day, as long as it provides her the profit she desires, she could care less.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Jill’s Apartment.
DATE: ┃ March 7th, 1998.
TIME: ┃12:04:27 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Darkness overtakes Raccoon City’s sky, covering it with a blanket of dark purple accented by sparkling stars. It’s quiet tonight, and the streets are practically empty. Citizens are curled up in their beds asleep and pleasantly dreaming — aside from one. Jill is laying in her bed wide awake, staring blankly up at her ceiling. It’s been a week since she found those files in Erica’s apartment, and she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about them. Paranoia has started to creep over her shoulder after reading that binder; she’s become wary of Captain Wesker, wondering why he might be involved in such heinous things. More importantly, she’s become wary of Erica. Jill has felt a sense of unease around Erica all week, anxiety weighing in on her shoulders whenever she’s been in sight of her or been a few feet away from her. She’s been politely avoiding Erica and keeping her responses relatively short, too afraid to look her in the eye knowing she went through the other woman’s things. If that was Jill’s only fear she wouldn’t be so afraid of coming out and telling Erica the truth of what she did, but considering what content was included in those files it makes her more afraid of what Erica might do if she does tell the truth.

 Although Erica has never shown that she’s a violent or unstable person, one of those data entries explicitly stated that she ate someone. She attacked and ate another person — no, she actually ripped out and ate another human being’s throat. The image still makes Jill’s stomach churn with disgust, and she sits up. She looks around her dimly lit bedroom illuminated by the shallow light of her lamp, and she purses her lips in thought. While what Erica did may have been horrible, Jill is very much aware that it’s not her fault. She was kidnapped and experimented on, and those experiments seemed to have made her develop cannibalistic tendencies. All of this was against her will, and Jill has no right to hold that against her. Of course she’s going to wonder if Erica has eaten someone since then, or if she thinks about eating someone, or if —

 Jill shakes her head, brushing off her thoughts before they can run rampant. She needs to do something about this; she can’t just keep avoiding Erica forever. Erica might start questioning what’s going on, and even though Jill is pretty calm under pressure, she isn’t sure she’ll be able to keep up this charade for long. She begins to consider her options. On one hand, Jill can pretend she never saw the files to begin with, continue to feel guilty about snooping, and avoid Erica for as long as possible. On the other hand, Jill can confront Erica and all of her irrational fears in one go — killing two birds with one stone. She chews her lower lip, glancing down at her sea of blankets. 

 She’s probably going to regret this, but her gut is telling her to go with the latter. She has a feeling that once she confronts Erica, all of her anxieties will be put at ease. Erica might pretend she doesn’t know what Jill is talking about, she might never talk to Jill again, or she might even eat Jill in retaliation, but Jill doesn’t care — she just wants to know the truth. She wants to hear it come from Erica herself.

 She glances over at her alarm clock, and it reads 12:06. She hums in thought before standing from her bed and walking into her living room. 

 It’s dark, and the light from the city outside is pouring in through her blinds.  Jill is unsure if Erica is awake or not, but Jill has no problem in taking a chance. She doesn’t care if it’s late, she doesn’t care if she’s a nuisance, and she doesn’t care what might happen if she goes upstairs to Erica’s apartment — she just wants to know the truth. It’s eating away at her to know if those files are real; to know if Umbrella really did those things, to know if Wesker was really involved, and to know if Erica, Jill, and Chris met the way the files said they did. She walks over to her door before slipping on some bedroom slippers and unlocking the door. She’s interally decided ‘fuck it’; she’s going to go for it. 

 Jill grabs her house keys off of her dresser, locks the door behind her, and begins calmly making her way up several flights of stairs. The sound of her footsteps echo inside the stairwell, adding to the tension that grows by the minute. She doesn’t know if this is still just one big cruel joke or not, but her gut is telling her it isn’t. It all just feels so serious — as if it wouldn’t be. When she reaches Erica’s floor she walks down the long hallway before finally reaching her apartment number. Once there, Jill takes a deep breath and gently knocks on the door. 

 Erica is in her bed snoring away when the sound of distant booming pounds against the silicone of her ear plugs, and during her slumber she furrows her brows in discomfort. She hopes the sound will eventually go away, but when it continues she can’t help but whine. She forces open her sleep filled eyes, frantically glancing around her room. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes so she can get a good look at her alarm clock. It’s literally the middle of the night. What the hell? Who in their right mind is at her door at this hour? She groans and flicks on her lamp, wincing at the light before her eyes adjust. She climbs out of bed and puts her earplugs on the nightstand. When she opens her bedroom door she trudges towards the front door, unlocking it and slowly sliding it open. She immediately furrows her brows in confusion as she eyes the brunette standing at her doorstep. “Hey, Jill.” She greets, her voice still groggy from just waking up. “What’s wrong?” She asks with a yawn. “Is everything okay?”

 “Oh, hey, Erica I, uh…” Jill starts, but as she speaks she realizes she can barely say hello much less talk to Erica. She gathers her words before she clears her throat. “I’m sorry to wake you up, but I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?” She swallows, “It’s uh, it’s really important.”

 Erica observes the other woman’s expression, and by the looks of it Jill is dead serious. Her anxiety starts to grow in the pit of her stomach, wondering what Jill might want to talk to her about. She shoves her fears aside and opens the door wider so she can allow the other inside, promptly closing it and locking it behind her once she’s inside. Erica walks over to one of the tables next to the couch and turns on the lamp, lighting up the once dark living room. She then finds a seat on the couch, and Jill follows suit by sitting across from her. No offense to Erica or anything, but Jill doesn’t exactly want to sit next to her when she isn’t sure how she might react. 

 Erica gives a straight smile, but it’s a mask to hide the fear inside of her growing by the second. “So, what’s on your mind?” 

 Jill can feel her body become hot with worry, but she reassures herself that everything will be fine. This is Erica we’re talking about; she’s one of the most chill and understanding people in the office. At least, that’s how she seems . ‘She seemed like a normal person at first but — ’ She cuts off her thoughts, stopping them before they can venture any further. She sucks in a breath, “Okay, I’m just going to cut to the chase. Do you remember last weekend when that nail polish rolled into your guest room?”

 Erica’s heart immediately starts to pound, but she keeps calm. “Yes…?” She replies, furrowing her brows in concern.

 “W-Well, it rolled underneath that little cabinet next to the armchair. When I reached for it, I accidentally opened a side compartment. I-I didn’t mean to look, and I probably should have left it alone but…” Jill looks down at the floor, afraid to look at her in the face. Erica, however, is afraid of the words that are coming out of Jill’s mouth. She’s finally been seen for what she is; a farce, a liar, a monster . She went out of her way to get a specialized piece of furniture that could secretly hide her things and her identity, and yet Jill was able to find them all regardless. That means Umbrella could find it with ease, too. Her eyes start to water, flooding with tears as Jill explains what happened — but it doesn’t matter what happened — all Erica knows is that she’s screwed . First her nightmare with Sol, then her encounter with James Marcus, and now this? Could things get any worse? She stops herself before she gets too caught up in her thoughts and focuses on what Jill is saying.

 “After you went to sleep, for some reason I just couldn’t help myself and I read one of the binders. I know it’s not an excuse but — ” 

 A tear falls down Erica’s face as she interrupts Jill, “Which one did you read?” She calmly asks.  She’s terrified out of her mind, but she might as well face the consequences. She can’t run away from her problems anymore. She’s backed into a corner with no way out this time, and she’s trying to keep her face emotionless even though she’s mentally freaking out. She knows Jill is actively telling her the inevitable, but she wants to have confirmation that Jill actually read what she thinks she read. 

 Jill stops and stares at Erica, staring into her teary eyes. Well, at least she hasn’t yelled at Jill yet, but she might if she doesn’t answer. “Subject # 2-7-7-0-0.” She replies, and the expression on Erica’s face is hard to describe. It suddenly falls and begins ranging between relief, sadness, and fear. This isn’t exactly the response Jill was expecting; she was half expecting Erica to kick her out and half expecting her to fly into some kind of fit of rage and eat Jill’s face off. This response causes Jill to feel guilty for thinking all those horrible things about her and she begins profusely apologizing. She’s deeply ashamed of herself for looking through Erica’s things. She promised herself she wouldn’t do those kinds of things anymore a long time ago, but look where that promise got her. “I-I’m so sorry that I read it. It was wrong of me to — ”

 “No, I…” Erica interrupts her again, trying to keep her composure. This is what Erica wanted to talk to Jill about all along. She’s relieved it’s finally out in the open now, and she’s relieved that she doesn’t have to do this alone anymore. However, she’s also deeply remorseful; remorseful that she’s kept it all a secret for this long. Tears pour down her cheeks, and she sobs. She’s held it all inside for so long, and now that she can let it out she feels like all the irrational fears, anxieties, tensions, and frustrations are all spilling out of her at once. 

 “Jill, I — ” She starts, but she heaves before she can say another word.

 Jill watches Erica as she practically crumbles into pieces, and she’s shocked at what’s happening. She did not expect this at all . Even if all those things about Erica are true, what kind of monster would fall apart so easily? She gets up from her seat and kneels in front of Erica and attempts to console the other woman. “Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe.” She says, grabbing the other’s hands. “Look at me.” 

 Erica raises her head to look at Jill, and her face is pitiful. Her lower lip is pouted, her face is drenched, and there’s snot dripping from her nose. She sniffles. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to tell you.” She states before throwing her head back and letting out a cry. “Oh my God , Jill,” She looks at her, eyes puffy with tears. “You just don’t know how long I’ve been so alone …”

 Jill frowns. She didn’t realize that Erica has been holding all of this in this entire time, and it’s no wonder she did. It sounds absolutely ridiculous; it sounds like something that could only happen in fiction. If Erica had told Jill any of this without showing the proof she probably would have thought she was on drugs or completely lost her mind. Fortunately for Erica, Jill saw the proof with her own eyes without even being told. “I don’t blame you for not telling me. I honestly wouldn’t have believed you if you did.” She squeezes Erica’s hands, “But there’s something I just don’t understand…” She looks up at the other. “Why are there future dates listed?” She questions. She still wants to know why some of the dates were listed recently and why some were listed months from now, because that would mean the experiments are current — unless there’s a different explanation. 

 Erica stares blankly into Jill’s curious and concerned face, and she takes a deep breath. She’s regretted this conversation more than she’s ever regretted telling anyone about being a biological weapon, but she made a promise. She made a promise to Jill and Chris a long time ago that she would tell them about who she was, where she was from, and why she knew so much about Umbrella before she was ever kidnapped, and now’s her chance to keep that promise. Everything is getting aired out in the open, so she might as well come clean now. She exhales and wipes her face dry with her shirt before looking at Jill. Now’s the time to stop being such a coward, so here goes nothing. “You just have to promise me you’ll keep an open mind, okay?”

 Jill can’t help but laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already proven I have an open mind.”

 Erica shakes her head, dismissing her friend’s lighthearted attitude. Now isn’t the time for jokes. “Just promise me, Jill.”

 Jill sighs. “Okay, okay. I promise.”

 ‘Alright, Erica. You can do this. Jill trusts you.’ Erica tells herself before beginning to think about how she wants to explain this. How is she supposed to tell Jill that her entire life and the world around her isn’t real? How is she supposed to explain how she got to travel into this world? How does she handle this? She decides to just keep it simple. ‘Let’s not make it too complicated, Erica. Just lay out the basics.’  She reassures herself before looking into Jill’s eyes with sincerity. 

 “So…I, uh, I don’t exactly know how to explain this, but…” She sighs. “Before I came to Raccoon City, I was living a relatively normal life. I had a good routine, a loving family, a decent job — I was in the best place I had been mentally, emotionally, and physically in a really long time. I was doing good for myself, but then something happened. One night I was taking a shower and a bad storm happened to come through, and during my shower the entire room lit up with a flash and then everything went dark.” She swallows nervously before continuing, watching Jill as the other woman listens intently. “The next time I woke up, I was at the Raccoon Hospital with blood and bandages all over my arms and legs, my voice gone, and my body in unbearable pain. After I was tended to, that was when the nurse told me that you were waiting for me down in the lobby to ask me some questions. You wanted to know who I was, where I had come from, and what had happened to me. I gave you a fake name because I didn’t have a clue about what happened to me or how I ended up in Raccoon City, but I knew I didn’t belong here.”

 Jill interrupts, following along until Erica’s final statement. This is where she finds herself confused. “What do you mean you ‘knew you didn’t belong here?’” She asks, furrowing her brows. “What are you saying?”

 “I’m saying the world where I originally come from, Raccoon City is… it’s not real .” 

 The woman’s answer hits Jill like a freight train. What does she mean ‘not real?’ Of course Raccoon City is real; the two of them are in an apartment building in the middle of the goddamn city. Where else would they be? She’s not making any sense… Erica continues her explanation before Jill can interrupt any further, “Where I come from you’re not real. S.T.A.R.S. isn’t real, Umbrella isn’t real — hell, this whole world isn’t even real. Where I come from, it doesn’t exist. So when I was in that hospital bed that night, I kept thinking I was losing my mind, I was dead, or I was in hell. I kept trying to rationalize what was happening, but no matter what rationalizations I told myself — I was still here. I was still in a place that in my mind knew wasn’t supposed to be real, but it was . It was real no matter how hard my brain tried to fight it.” Her eyes begin to water as she still remembers that dreadful feeling of that first night in Raccoon City; of how lost she felt being in a familiar yet foreign world. “I had no friends and no family available to me, no identification or money, and I was all alone, but you took pity on me and invited me to stay with you for a while. I accepted your offer because I knew since you were a police officer that I would be safe with you until I could figure out how to get back home.”

 Well, that’s not completely true. Erica accepted her offer because she was familiar with Jill and didn’t want to go home with anybody else or potentially be left to the hospital’s devices — aka Umbrella’s devices.

 While Jill is glad to finally get the answers she’s been wanting, she didn’t realize just how heavy they would be. Although Erica didn’t explain how she ended up in Raccoon City, she at least filled in the gaps leading up to Chris and Jill finding her on the outskirts of town and taking her to the hospital, even as much as explaining the reason for Erica living with Jill. This is a lot of information to take in, but as she watches Erica’s face she knows that there’s more to this story. Even if it all sounds so ridiculous, all the events Erica is explaining have been accounted for and align with the documents so far, so Jill doesn’t see any reason for the other woman to be lying. 

 A frown pulls at the corners of Erica’s lips, “But…it turns out before I woke up one of the doctors at the hospital took a blood sample from me. That blood sample was sent to Umbrella, and they deemed my blood to be useful for their research. They in turn made it their priority to take me in for said research. They tried kidnapping me from your apartment not even a week after I arrived, but I was able to escape before they could get me. After their attempt failed, Umbrella held off on trying to kidnap me for a while, and during that time I became close with you and Chris until the inevitable happened.” She tries to wipe her face dry, but it’s proven to be no use as more tears travel down her stained cheeks. She can still feel the prick of the needles injecting into her forearms and legs — over and over and over again. Sometimes she can still see its imprint in her skin even though there’s nothing there. A shudder runs down her spine at the images that flash in her mind. “The results of those experiments lead to my death, but I guess dying wasn’t enough. My body was injected with another virus, reviving me but not enough to induce consciousness.” 

 Erica looks down at the floor, avoiding Jill’s gaze. “Because of how long I was in a coma, I was expected to float around in a tank in a facility for the rest of my days, but I managed to get out of Umbrella’s facility before that could happen.” She runs her hands through her hair, becoming more vague at the end of her explanation as to not make Jill worry. “I fled the country so I could get away, and that's when I found out the same people who brought me to Raccoon City in the first place had been keeping tabs on me the whole time. They gave me the chance to go back home as some sort of ‘reward’ for my trouble, but there was a catch. When I was given the choice to go back home, picking that choice meant that none of you would remember me and I’d never see you again.” She raises her eyes to meet Jill’s own, but she doesn’t hold eye contact for long, feeling ashamed that she chose to leave her friend behind. She knows Jill won’t blame her, but there will always be the guilt of abandonment. “Some kind of reward that was…” She scoffs to herself, prompting Jill to reach out and grab one of her hands. Erica gives a faint smile, squeezing Jill’s hand back to reassure the other woman she’s okay. At least Jill is here now, and Erica won’t be leaving her behind again.

 "I wasn't aware that coming back home meant that the same anonymous people would leave me a device that would let me come back to Raccoon City anytime I wanted. I thought I'd never see you again, so after believing I wouldn't I just put it away and pretended it never existed. I believed it was better for me to be where I belonged, so I tried to pretend it was all just a bad dream. I tried telling myself that I just let my imagination get the better of me — that I just dreamt it all — but I quickly came to the realization that I couldn’t live my life anymore…so I decided to return to the city. “ She explains, “After I saw the ad for the S.T.A.R.S. secretary position, I made a plan. I made a plan to apply for the job to get close to you guys again and tell you everything once I earned your trust, but I just kept chickening out. I just didn’t want you to look at me like some kind of monster.” 

 While Jill is unnerved to hear Erica saying all that she has ever known isn’t real, she feels the utmost sympathy for Erica. Not only did Erica get kidnapped, experimented on, and killed, but she was also taken from everything that she knew and put into an unknown place on top of that. She was taken from her world and put into Jill’s world, only to suffer at the hands of its villain. Now that she has confirmed the validity of the files, explained their context, and elaborated why Jill and the others don’t remember her, Jill understands Erica now. She now understands why Erica would make excuses when they invited her out to things, why she would always avoid talking about her personal life, and why she would remain as ambiguous as possible to the outside world. She now understands that Erica never belonged here in the first place.

 Whatever the reasoning for Erica arriving in the first place was, all Jill knows is that she’s glad it was Erica. She’s glad it was such a selfless person because who in their right mind would come back to a world that turned them inhuman, much less contained the people who were the cause of it? Who in their right mind would come back and use what happened to them in favor of others? The revelations make her feel guilty for thinking all those awful things about Erica the past week, and instead those judgemental thoughts are now replaced with ones of admiration. 

 Jill shakes her head at Erica’s words. “You’re not a monster, Erica.” She says, and Erica rebuttles. “If only you could see the terrible things I’m capable of.” 

 “To hell with those things, Erica!” Jill snaps.

 Erica is taken aback by Jill’s reaction; a shocked expression written all over her face as Jill begins going on a tirade. “You keep making this situation out as if it’s your fault. You had no choice in any of the things that happened to you, and yet you made the conscious decision to come back and stop Umbrella from doing anything awful to anyone else. You are making your situation beneficial for others. What kind of ‘monster’ does something like that? Certainly not any that I’m aware of.” She vents, and the living room goes quiet for a few seconds before Erica speaks up.

 “Does that mean you don’t hate me?”

 Jill can’t help but let out a laugh at the innocent inquiry. Is that what Erica is worried about? She’s worried about Jill hating her? Seriously ? “I have never hated you, Erica.”

 Erica smiles. “Well, that’s a relief.” She laughs, and Jill chimes in with a slight chuckle. A moment later, she speaks the next thing on her mind. “So…What do we do now?”

 “Well, first things first I’m going to need to find a new hiding spot for my things,” Erica replies with a cheeky grin, but it quickly falls following her next sentence. “And then I’m going to figure out how to tell Chris about Umbrella.”

 “Are you going to tell him about everything else?” Jill asks, and Erica feels her chest hurt. How would Erica even begin that conversation? Especially with somebody like Chris? It was hard enough for her to tell Jill about it — it’s going to take an incredible feat to be able to tell Chris. 

 “I don’t know yet…” Erica sniffles.

 Jill purses her lips. The two women have had enough excitement for one night, and it’s probably for the best if they went to bed and slept it off. All of the revelations that have come to light are going to take some getting used to, and getting some sleep is the first step to do that. It would take a hell of a lot more energy and alertness to be able to tell Chris about all this. There’s no telling how he would react to this kind of information, especially given his short temper and impulsive nature. Jill decides it’s better to put it off for now. “Look, how about we get some sleep and figure those things out in the morning, okay?”

 Erica nods. “Okay…”  She responds before she pauses. After a few seconds of silence she speaks up again. “I hope it’s not too much to ask, but can you stay?” She questions, “I-I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight…”

 Jill doesn’t have to give it any thought to answer. “You got an extra pillow on your bed?”

 A smile grows on Erica’s lips. “Yes, ma’am I certainly do.”

 “Then count me in.” Jill grins,

 Erica stands to head to the bedroom and Jill follows suit. Jill slides off her bedroom slippers to climb onto the bed and while Erica grabs a pillow from the other side of the room for Jill. She tosses it to the other woman before climbing into the bed herself. The two share a smile, and when Erica turns over to get comfortable she turns off the lamp. The women lay there in silence for a while. Jill is taking in all that they talked about tonight while Erica is excited that she’s not alone in this anymore. Their thoughts eventually lead them to exhaustion, and just before Erica falls asleep she whispers something to Jill.

 “Goodnight, Jill.”

 Jill, half awake and half asleep at this point, heard what Erica said and mumbles under her breath. “Goodnight, Erica.” A smile cracks on Erica’s lips before she loses herself to slumber, and shortly after Jill drifts off, too.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Burton Residence.
DATE: ┃ March 15th, 1998.
TIME: ┃11:57:09 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s an absolutely gorgeous day in Raccoon City; the warm sun is shining, the songbirds are singing, and the citizens are either grabbing an ice cream cone, sunbathing, or cooling off in their pools. Some are still in church service, eagerly awaiting for the sermons to be over so they can go out and eat some lunch. Barry Burton and his wife Kathy just so happen to be hosting a BBQ and birthday party for their youngest daughter Polly. Among the adults attending are Erica, Jill, Chris, Forest, Joseph, Brad, Enrico and his wife Pamela, Kenneth and his wife Charlotte, and, surprisingly, Wesker. Richard said he couldn’t make it, and Edward Dewey and Kevin Dooley, Bravo team’s pilot and co-pilots respectively, said they had family visiting. The rest of the party’s attendants are a few of Polly’s classmates, Enrico and Kenneth’s children, and a couple of friends for Polly’s older sister, Moira, to spend time with. 

 Barry is currently prepping the grill, getting it ready for the massive feast he’s about to prepare while he talks to Brad, Enrico, and Kenneth. Kathy, Pamela, and Charlotte are inside the house preparing hamburgers and hot dogs for the grill, and Forest and Joseph are busy entertaining the children. Erica and Jill are helping set up the snack bar, laying out different kinds of chips, cookies, and other kinds of junk food for everyone to partake in alongside their meals. Chris, Forest, Joseph, and Wesker are sitting at one of the picnic tables. Chris may or may not have thought about helping, but it looked like everybody had it covered. Forest and Joseph are lost in their own conversation and Wesker is simply observing what’s going on, ignoring his subordinates around him in favor of watching Erica.

 Although he knows he’s supposed to be getting as much intel as he can on her, the past few weeks have made him frustrated. So far he hasn’t found out anything useful about her at all aside from her personal tastes and internal issues, and as much as he’s interested in gaining information to use against her it’s not exactly information he’s looking for. He’s begun to wonder if maybe she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, and perhaps he’s just been torturing himself this entire time with meaningless speculations about some random woman. Well, not entirely random; he knows who she is, where she works, where she lives, and he even knows some of her personal background, including her childhood. Out of all of the things he knows, again, none of them have been proven to be useful to him. Is he just losing his mind after all these years? Has his shell finally cracked? Or is she truly a monster like his gut is telling him?

 As Wesker loses himself in his delusions, Chris finds himself thinking about Erica in a different kind of way. He knows practically everything that Wesker knows and probably even more, but he doesn’t plan on using any of it against her. He just wants to learn things about her so he can absorb each and every new thing he learns and revel in fascination, but lately all he’s learned is that Erica is still embarrassed about what happened between them at his party a few weeks ago and that isn’t anything to revel in. When he came to this little get together he hoped he would finally get the chance to talk to Erica, but it appears she’s still ignoring him. While he understands her embarrassment, he’s beginning to feel like it has a lot more to do with just embarrassment. Did he do something wrong and she’s not telling him? Is there someone else? Is he just making things out of nothing?

 Erica can feel both of their eyes on her as she and Jill are finishing their set up with a final bag of chips in the last empty bowl, but she chooses to ignore it. She’s not here to worry about issues she has going on with either Wesker or Chris — she’s here to enjoy herself with her coworkers and friends and their families. She balls up the empty chip bag and tosses it in the trash before Kathy comes out of the house with Pamela and Charlotte following behind. The scent of the raw meat makes Erica’s stomach rumble, and she hopes that Barry will be able to cook this food fast enough. It’s not like she didn’t bring any backup food to eat in the car in case of an emergency but she would love nothing more than to eat a juicy hamburger with everything on it and a hotdog with the classic combo of ketchup and mustard. She might as well add some chips on the side since it would pull the whole meal together. Before she can fantasize about the food any further, Chris starts to approach her.

 She can feel her stomach tighten when he comes close, and his scent whiffs past her nose. Her stomach pulses in excitement, eager as he comes closer and closer. He just smells so delicious… She starts to feel nauseous and can feel her skin become hot with worry at the thought of him being appetizing, but she remains calm to think about what he could be approaching her for. What could he want? He’s not going to ask anything about what she thinks he will, will he? When he steps up to her, he looks at her with kind eyes. She practically melts underneath his gaze, and she can’t help but speak to him. “Hi.” She awkwardly smiles.

 “Hey.” Chris replies, giving her a soft, handsome grin. He looks at the ground sheepishly for a moment; he knows he shouldn’t intrude or pressure her, but he wants to get some kind of explanation for what happened a few weeks ago. It’s been driving him insane trying to make sense of things, and he knows he won’t be able to if he just doesn’t ask her. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He makes eye contact with her. “ Alone ?”

 Jill happens to overhear this conversation, and she looks over at Erica to see her reaction. Erica notices this out of the corner of her eye and glances over in her direction. She gives the brunette a straight smile as if to tell her she’ll be okay before she looks up at Chris. Her stomach is flipping in circles at the thought of the two of them being alone, but she can’t avoid him forever. It’s almost been a month since the party, and she hasn’t so much as talked to him about anything aside from work. He must be running around in his mind trying to figure out what he did wrong, and it pains her knowing she left him hanging like that. She knows she can’t tell him exactly what’s going on just yet, but she knows at least now she’s not alone. She has Jill, and if anything goes wrong she knows the other woman has her back. 

 Erica inhales and smiles up at him, ready to face her fears. “Sure. Let’s go around to the front.”

 “Okay.” Chris replies, happy that she’s agreed to talk to him. He walks behind her as she begins walking around the side of the house and to the front yard, and he can’t help but smile. His smile, however, doesn’t go unnoticed. 

 Wesker watches as the two of them step away from the party, and he furrows his brows. Where are those two going? What could they be going off to talk about? He’s surprised Erica actually held a conversation with Chris considering how she’s been actively avoiding him at the office lately. Before Wesker can begin to theorize any further, Enrico and Barry begin beckoning him over to the grill. He grits his teeth for a moment before getting up from the picnic table and heading over. He may not like socializing with these people, but the only reason he’s here is to keep an eye on Erica. Seeing as he can’t actively have his eye on her, he may as well occupy himself with meaningless conversation to keep his mind from obsessing over what might be going on between her and Chris. Jill happens to catch Wesker’s obsessive gaze before he gets up, much like the other obsessive gazes he’s given Erica. It makes her wonder if Wesker knows about Erica or if he remembers what he did to her. Either way, Jill has been questioning his character ever since and quite frankly, she’s utterly disgusted by him now. All her respect for him has gone down the drain, and all she feels now towards him is disdain and wariness. She shrugs off her negative thoughts when he becomes occupied elsewhere, and she joins the other women now at the picnic table. She can worry about him later.

 When Erica and Chris make it to the front yard, they find a place to sit on the front porch’s swing. The wood creaks underneath their weight as they sit down, and Erica places her hands in her lap, clasping them together anxiously. “So…uh, what do you wanna talk about?” She nervously asks. Her heart is pounding, afraid of the conversation they’re about to hold. She knows she doesn’t need to ask this question; she already knows what it’s going to be about, but she wants to hear it from him.

 Chris inhales before exhaling, body tense. “I wanna talk about what happened after the party.” He says, looking over at Erica. He has such a sincere look on his face, and this makes her chest tighten. She nods, “Okay…” She replies. “Does this have anything to do with what I did?”

 “Erica, don’t play dumb. You know what I’m talking about.” He says. His response makes her frown, and she lets him continue. “I get it, you were embarrassed by what happened, but you’ve just been ignoring me ever since it happened.” He shakes his head. “It’s starting to make me feel like I’m the problem — ”

 She instantly faces her body towards him, interrupting him. “Chris, do not think for one second that you are the problem. You are far from it.” 

 He interrupts her in return. “Then what’s going on? Can you at least give me an explanation for why you’ve been ignoring me?” He questions, and she chews her lower lip as his eyes search her own for answers. She can’t tell him anything — not right now. They’re out in the open, plus she wants Jill to be here for support. She already had this conversation on her own when she and Jill had this conversation, and she isn’t keen on doing it alone again. For right now, her best decision would be to keep him as far away from her as possible but close enough that he won’t suspect anything. She just can’t risk his safety like that, especially considering how active Umbrella has been in their surveillance on her.

 “I just — I just think that it’s better that we remain friends right now.” She blurts out, and she watches him as her eyes start to water. She doesn’t mean that — not even close — but she can’t do this. She really wants to be more than friends, but she just can’t. His safety is just too important to jeopardize with her wants and desires.

 Chris blankly stares at her, trying to process what she just said. Did he just hear that right? Did she really just tell him that? He wonders if this is just a cruel joke, but he knows it’s not. This is reality, and the reality is Erica isn’t interested in being more than friends. For some reason, however, he doesn’t believe her. He doesn’t believe her when she says she doesn’t want more. The way she kissed him said something different — the way she kissed him made him feel like she had been desperate for him. Not that he minded or anything. It just doesn’t make sense to him… He clenches his jaw. He knows there’s more to it than this, and she just isn’t telling him. Either that or she won’t tell him. Anger, disappointment, and hurt befalls his features, but after a moment his face returns to a neutral expression. “I don’t believe that.” He responds, making Erica peer at him with watery eyes. What did he just say? He doesn’t believe her? What is that supposed to mean?

 “But if that’s what you want…I’ll respect it.” Chris stands from his seat and walks down the porch steps before pausing. “Thanks for the talk, Erica.” He passively says before heading in the direction of the backyard. He feels hurt as he leaves, but if Erica really feels that way he won’t press her any further. Although there’s a voice telling him in the back of his mind that she’s lying, he’s just going to try to move on from what happened. If she wants to be friends, so be it. After all, he’s at a BBQ — he’s not going to let his feelings spoil the food he’s ready to eat.

 After Chris is gone, Erica can’t help but feel like she just played herself. It’s not like she and Chris can be together, but it still hurts all the same. One day he’ll know the truth, but until then she has to keep him at a distance. She loves him too much to keep him close, and she loves him too much to put him at risk. Either way she’s shit out of luck. She looks upwards, trying to prevent any tears from ruining her makeup and dabbing them dry before she collects herself and stands to walk down the steps. She passes through the gate leading into the backyard and takes a deep breath. She won’t let that moment sour her time here — she can let it eat her up later when she’s alone. Right now, she’s ready to eat up some food. When Erica returns, Jill happens to notice something about her friend is off. She looks… sad. Chris, too, looked sad when he returned. Did something happen between the two of them? Is everything okay? Did Erica tell Chris what Jill knows? No, Erica wouldn’t do that out in the open, so could it have been about what happened after the party? She wants to ask if Erica is fine, but she decides to keep her mouth shut. Now isn’t the time or the place to be having that kind of conversation, so she’ll keep in mind to ask Erica about it later.

 Wesker, too, notices Erica’s change in demeanor, but before he can observe her upon her return he’s pulled aside into yet another boring conversation. He decides to make note of it for later before Barry starts rambling on about some fishing trip he plans on taking in a few weeks.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Arklay Mountains, Raccoon City Forest.
DATE: ┃ March 18th, 1998.
TIME: ┃01:09:38 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Crickets are chirping loudly, echoing their music through the grass and trees. Nocturnal creatures are on the hunt for something to feast on — owls hoot and fly in the night in search of mice, wolves hungrily prowl for deer, and Erica too is on the lookout. Er, well, she was . She knows it was probably not a good idea to come out here in the middle of the night, but she just wanted to make sure that James Marcus hasn’t been infecting anyone or anything out here. She feels like she might have pissed him off to the point where he might infect people earlier than she anticipated. Luckily for her, the only things she happened to come across are the occasional bunny or frog — perfectly normal and not infected with the T-Virus. 

 She sighs as she makes her way back to her car; the moon’s rays shining down on her. There might not have been any B.O.W. activity tonight, but there’s no guarantee that there won’t be any tomorrow, or the next day, or even the day after that. So, she’s going to keep coming back to this forest to make sure there never will be.

 Erica gets back into her car and drives off, heading in the direction of Raccoon City so she can go home. The car ride is quiet as she sits in silence, passing by street light after street light. The streets are practically dead at this time of night and while it feels comforting to have such a peaceful drive home, there's something bothering her. She doesn’t exactly know what it is, but she has a gut feeling that something is off. She glances in the rearview mirror. It doesn’t seem like anyone is following her, so she tries to shrug it off. However, the feeling just won’t go away. Soon enough, she’s in the parking lot of her apartment building fast-walking towards the entrance of the building. The feeling in her gut is becoming persistent, and it gets bigger and bigger as she rushes up the stairwell.

 When she reaches her apartment door, her intuition is at its all time high. She quickly rummages through her purse, searching for her keys when an unfamiliar scent whiffs past her nostrils. Sniff, sniff . It smells like…perfume? Wait, why does she smell perfume? Erica doesn’t recognize its scent, and she’s never used a perfume that smells like that before. Neither Jill or anyone else she knows uses a perfume with this exact scent, so why is she smelling it? It makes her furrow her brows in confusion, and she questions where the scent is coming from. She looks around and sniffs. Is she smelling one of her neighbors' new perfumes? No, that can’t be right. Who would be spraying perfume at one o’clock in the morning? She smells the air again, and she suddenly realizes that the smell is coming directly from underneath her apartment door. 

 Erica’s stomach clenches with anxiety, and she freezes. Her intuition is telling her someone is in her apartment, and her rationality is telling her that she’s just being paranoid. Is someone breaking in? Is she being robbed? Does she just unlock the door and find out herself? It’s not like she has much of a choice…

 She finally finds her keys and hesitantly puts the key into the deadbolt, slowly unlocking it before she pushes the door open. It creaks as it slowly opens, and she stares into the darkness of her home. The only light coming into the apartment is from the hallway she’s still standing in and the street lights shining from outside her living room windows. It’s eerily quiet, but as Erica steps inside the apartment the sound of a heartbeat reaches her ears. She instantly realizes that she’s not alone and that someone is in fact inside of her apartment. She swallows thickly, trying to think of what she should do without raising alarms. It’s not like she can’t defend herself, but that still doesn’t make her any less afraid or anxious of the situation. She decides to calmly close the door behind her before flicking on the lights — her own heart pounding faster and faster by the second. She turns around, and her breath catches in her throat. 

 There’s a young woman standing before her, aiming a pistol directly at her. The woman has a stoic look on her face, clutching the weapon tightly in her hands. Erica stares at her and she feels like this woman’s appearance is familiar. The woman appears to be of Chinese descent, has hazel eyes and short, black hair, and she’s wearing a red blouse, black dress pants, and a pair of heels. Erica begins to rack her mind trying to figure out this woman’s identity, and once she comes to the realization of who this is her heart drops into the pit of her stomach. The woman standing before her must be none other than Ada Wong. 

 In the real world, Ada Wong’s part in the Resident Evil games is a secret spy who infiltrated Umbrella in order to get classified information. She then reported this information back to her employers at what was referred to as the Organization or the direct rival to Umbrella. Nobody knows the true name of the Organization, and that includes Erica and possibly even Ada herself. All she knows is that Ada worked for them until the events of the second game where she supposedly died. Of course that isn’t true, but the game led players to believe she died during the destruction of the NEST. That doesn’t happen until September 30th due to the outbreak of September 23rd — an outbreak Erica is currently trying to prevent. That doesn’t even begin to touch on the outbreak of May 11th, but so far she has that one under control. At least she hopes she does .

 After she’s done questioning Ada’s identity, she starts asking herself why Ada would be in her apartment in the first place. Did someone hire Ada to assassinate her? Is she doing this out of her own fruition? What would Ada have anything to do with Erica? Before her mind can run rampant with irrelevant thoughts, she stops herself to focus  on the situation at hand.
“What are you doing here?” Erica asks, and the inquiry immediately takes Ada off guard.  That’s the first thing this woman asks? ‘ What are you doing here? ’ Is she not aware that a stranger is actively pointing a weapon at her, in her own home no less? Or does she simply not care? She doesn’t lower her weapon, continuing to observe the white haired woman. If the rumors are true and this woman is just as dangerous as everyone says, Ada’s not going to take that chance. She will, however, answer the other’s question.

 “Waiting for you, of course.” She remarks.

 Erica watches Ada after her reply, and she’s still confused. Why would Ada be waiting for her? What does she want with Erica? How does Ada even know about Erica?

 “What do you want from me?” She asks, eyeing the gun in Ada’s hand. She knows she should be worried considering she has a gun pointed at her face, but she isn’t. As she stares into the black abyss of the gun’s barrel, she isn’t so sure if she even feels threatened by guns anymore. She feels like she’s more of a threat than something as lethal as a pistol. Even if Ada did shoot her, Erica would just come back from the dead — and she would not be happy. Dying is a bitch, and the mess she would have to clean up would be atrocious. Not to mention there’s no doubt Erica would get noise complaints or have someone call the police. Her thoughts are interrupted by Ada’s answer; “I just want you to answer some questions.”

 Erica makes a face. As if . She’s not an idiot, and she’s certainly not going to give Ada what she’s asking for. ‘I just want you to answer questions.’ Over her dead body . “You might as well fucking shoot me if you think I’m going to talk.” She snaps, and Ada smirks at the woman’s response. She must be truly dangerous if she isn’t so much as threatened by a gun, much less afraid if Ada would shoot her or not. “I don’t mind testing that theory.” She retorts, and Erica scoffs. “Go ahead.”

 Ada is stunned by how brazen this woman is, and she can’t help but question what words just came out of the other woman’s mouth. Does she seriously want to die rather than answer questions? What is wrong with her? Just who is she? Why are Umbrella and her employers so intent on gathering information and/or capturing her? It’s not like Ada can blame them — the data listed in the reports is quite the intriguing mystery, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t want to know more about this woman, too. She starts to ponder what she should do now. It’s clear threatening her isn’t going to work, so she might as well play nice to get what she wants. It might not work considering she started off this interaction with pointing a gun at her face, but it’ll be worth a shot. Maybe she can sympathize with her.

 “You don’t seem to care whether you live or die. Why is that?” Ada asks, and Erica gives the other woman a vicious glare. “Why do you care? You seem like you’re pretty eager to pull that trigger.” She says, and Ada gives a straight smile. It never brings her joy to shoot anyone but if it comes down to between her and the other person, she’ll choose herself. Neither empathy or sympathy have a place in the business she works in. “Not exactly. I’m just trying to get what I want.”

 Erica eyes her intently. If she knows anything about Ada, she knows Ada will use any information she has in her favor. Meaning, if any of Erica’s information is leaked to her then there’s no doubt in her mind that Ada would sell it. Who Ada would be exactly selling it to is a mystery to her, but she doesn’t plan on finding that out or letting that happen. “Who are you working for?” She inquires, and Ada can’t help but let a chuckle slip past her lips. “I work for a lot of people. You’ll have to be more specific.” She snarkily answers. This annoys Erica, but she decides to let it slide. “What do your employers want with me?” She folds her arms, leaning against the kitchen counter.

 Ada keeps her distance still, unsure of what this woman might do if she lowers her weapon. She doesn’t seem like much of a threat, but if the reports have anything to say about her appearances can be deceiving. “They want to know what you are. Just like everyone else.” 

 Her response makes Erica’s face turn pale white. What the hell is she talking about? ‘Just like everyone else?’ Who is ‘everyone else?’ Is she seriously going to have to worry about more corrupt pharmaceutical companies coming after her? Can’t she catch a break for once in her life? That’s all she’s asking for. William, Wesker, Spencer, Marcus, Chris, and now Ada and her employers — are there any more problems in her life she should know about? What’s next? The US government? Oh, God, she doesn’t even want to consider that as a possibility.

 Ada notices the color wash away from her face, and she realizes that her answer must have hit a nerve — a nerve that knows what Ada is referring to. Erica’s eyes start to water, and she feels like a rush of stress and worry just washed over her body. What is she going to do? Does she tell Jill that someone else is watching her? Does she finally tell Chris what’s going on? Does she just find Oswell Spencer and kill him to get it over with? Does she just give up and go home? Tears are flooding down her cheeks at this point, and she wipes them away before glancing back at Ada. The sudden shift in this woman’s attitude makes her believe that she’s not this hardass that she made herself out to be. Her face says it all; she’s just a scared woman, afraid of being found out. What exactly is so terrible about her that she’s terrified of other people knowing? Ada wants to find out what it is, but she probably won’t find out today. Erica’s bloodshot eyes and sad face make Ada feel something — something she hasn’t felt in years — sympathy . How ironic. She sighs and lowers her weapon, keeping her gaze on the other woman as she does so. 

 Erica sniffles and watches her, unsure of what she’s going to do next. The next sentence that comes out of Ada’s mouth, however, takes her by surprise. “I’d just keep my eye open at night if I were you if you aren’t already.” Ada warns, and Erica is quiet for a moment. Why is Ada warning her? Wasn’t she just going to shoot her to get information out of her? What made her change her mind so suddenly? This confusion is apparent on her face, and Ada can see it. She knows that she probably shouldn’t have warned her, but something told her the woman needed it. She doesn’t come across as this dangerous monster that everyone claims she is, and if she was truly a monster Ada wouldn’t still be alive. She isn’t exactly sure what it is about this woman that confuses her so much, but it certainly intrigues her. So much so, she decides that she’ll simply pay this strange woman another visit at another time. Perhaps she can get the information she craves through feigning some sort of friendship.

 Ada starts making her way towards the living room window she snuck in through, and before she has the chance Erica stops her. “Wait, aren’t you going to — ” She starts, but Ada interrupts her. “I’ll worry about it another time.” She says, looking back at Erica with a smirk. “See you around, Miss Slater.”

 After the words leave her lips she jumps down to the ground below, and Erica rushes over to the window. Down below, Ada is safely on the ground and hopping onto a moped scooter to drive away. Once she disappears down the street, Erica shuts her living room window and locks it, making sure to check if all of her other windows are locked as well. After she checks the windows, she checks her drawer to make sure all of her documents are still there. She sighs in relief when they’re all accounted for, and once she exits her guest bedroom she flicks off the kitchen light and walks into her bedroom. She closes the door behind her and stands in her room in silence trying to process what the hell just happened. Where does she go from here? What do Ada’s employers want from her? Do they want the same thing as Umbrella? 

 The questions start to make her head hurt, so she decides to sleep it off for now and remind herself to tell Jill about it tomorrow. She gets into bed and slides under the covers, closing her tear filled eyes before she eventually falls asleep.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃ March 25th, 1998.
TIME: ┃10:32:58 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s a busy day at the police department, and everyone has been up and down at their desks trying to keep up. Some have remained glued to their seats, wanting to complete their work all in one go. One of those people is Erica, who’s focused on completing the reviewing for a report before she gives it to one of the S.T.A.R.S members to file. To whom it went to, it would depend on who got to her first. She didn’t care; she just wanted to give herself something else to think about. So much has happened lately, and she isn’t exactly sure if she’s really holding herself together. She feels like some sort of paranoid maniac having to stay vigilant all of the time; Wesker, Umbrella, and now Ada/The Organization are watching her every move. While Erica did inform Jill of her most recent stalkers, there’s only so much that can be done. Jill can only offer Erica more ways to hide, blend in, or sneak around, but there’s only so much she can offer. Erica can stop going out as much or keep waiting until later in the night to leave, but there’s only so much she can take. She’s getting tired of this annoying game of cat and mouse; constantly being chased around in circles and circles by the culprits of her past trauma. 

 To add on top of that, she feels like she hasn’t been herself lately. It’s not like she hasn’t been eating red meat and pig’s blood, but she’s beginning to believe that they’re not as efficient anymore. They’re just not cutting it, and it’s starting to take its toll on her. The viruses are trying to take control because she won’t feed them, and she’s been noticing small instances where they have surfaced. She feels like any moment she might wake up and everyone around her is dead because she didn’t at least try to satiate her cravings with villains and monsters like Sol suggested. It wouldn’t be humane, but would it really be so terrible if they’re not innocent people? There are thousands of Umbrella employees and corrupted cops ready for the taking. Would it really kill her to finally rip someone open and eat them until there’s nothing left — like they never existed at all? Someone like Wesker would suit that role perfectly…

 Speaking of Wesker, he casually stands from his chair and opens his door before peeking his head out to address Erica. “Miss Slater, may I see you in my office?” 

 She cringes at the sound of his voice, and her stomach churns with disgust as she puts her pen down and stands from her chair. She takes a deep breath before trudging towards his office, closing the door behind her once she’s inside. She promptly takes a seat, “Yes, sir?”

 Wesker scoots forward in his chair, straightening himself as he gives her his full attention. “I would like to speak to you about your performance.” He says.

 Erica is taken aback by his response. What is he talking about? What does he mean ‘about her performance’? She thought she was doing perfectly fine — is she seriously struggling at her job now, too? What else is going to pile itself onto her plate?

 “I had no idea that anything was wrong with my performance.” She remarks, and Wesker clasps his hands together as he puts them on his desk. 

 “It’s been rather lackluster lately. Do you have an explanation for why this may be?”

 Erica’s stomach churns when he calls her out on her behavior. She knows shouldn’t feel bad for her little offense, but there’s a small part of her that she’s being seen for the farce she really is. Does he see right through her? Can she tell that she’s been lying from the start? She wonders if she might just be being paranoid again and she shrugs her thoughts off. After all, the topic of conversation isn’t that awful; he’s just trying to get some reasoning behind why she hasn’t been doing well — even if he doesn’t deserve the privilege. She promptly expresses remorse, hoping he’ll fall for her ruse. “I’m sorry, I…” She murmurs, trying to think of a believable excuse. She just needs to come up with something — anything — that might finally get him to leave her alone long enough for her to follow through with her plans. 

 But what would distract him long enough to leave her alone? What could she tell him that could make his mind run rampant? She sighs and the words slip past her lips.

 “I developed this rare condition over a year ago, and it’s taken a physical and mental toll on me. Sometimes I get recurring headaches, fevers, and bodily pains so extreme sometimes it just feels like my body is consuming itself.” She explains, glancing at the blonde man. She can see her reflection in his sunglasses as she lies straight to his face. Well, it’s not like really lying. She’s telling the truth — it’s just a teeny tiny bit skewed.

 Her explanation and demeanor makes Wesker curious just as much as it takes him by complete and utter surprise. It’s as if all the times her eyes have looked at him with such disdain and hatred have now been replaced by eyes begging for mercy, begging to be given relief. It’s as if she’s turned back into a scared little bunny staring up with big, pleading eyes and wiggling its nose in fear, and he’s the big bad wolf ready to devour her. That look makes his deja vu wash over him again, as does bewilderment. Oh, why does she make him feel like this? What is it about this woman that drives him this crazy? Why does she occupy his mind like this?

 “I had no idea you were dealing with such a thing.” He responds, and Erica can’t help but feel irony slap her in the face. ‘Of course you don’t. You piece of — ’

 “Tell me, have you gotten this condition tested?” He interrupts her thoughts with his inquiry, eyeing her intently as he eagerly waits for an answer. This information is great news to him, and it makes him wonder why he didn’t find anything about her mentioning such a condition. It’s not like he hasn’t been thorough; he combed through every piece of legal and medical information he could find about this woman, but he doesn’t recall seeing any medical records detailing such a predicament. Was it actually tested? Did it get classified as a simple cold? What’s the story for this ‘rare condition’?

 Erica nods, unsure of where this conversation is going but hoping her bullshit lies will work in her favor. “Yes. Multiple times, and I always get the same answer. ‘We aren’t sure what it is, but we’ll run some more tests and give you a call back.’, ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before. Let me call you next week and let you know what I find.’ and my personal favorite, ‘I’m sorry. We can’t help you.’” She uses her fingers to make quotation marks around the latter statement.

 In the real world, she hasn’t actually gone to any doctors because they might have taken her away, and who knows what might have happened to her then. She just had to learn to deal with the viruses on her own. In Raccoon City, however, Erica knows better than to go to any of the local hospitals. She knows what happened the last time she was in one of their facilities’ care, and she certainly doesn’t need that happening again. Annette stealing her blood while she was unconscious almost made her never want to step foot inside of a hospital ever again.

 “What have you done to remedy your pains?” Wesker strokes his chin, trying to piece together what kind of disease she may be suffering. It could be anything; there are so many afflictions with symptoms she described it would be like looking for a needle in a needle pile. Strangely, however, they sound like symptoms of the T-Virus…but how could that be possible? Wesker decides to brush off his thoughts; after all, he still doesn’t have enough evidence to prove she even is infected with the T-Virus, much less a biological weapon like he has been suspecting.

 Erica shrugs. “Nothing, really…” That’s a lie. She’s eaten tons upon tons of red meat, pork, or blood curry, but even though she may eat as many substitutes as she wants, there's no denying that human flesh is what her body craves. Her body practically begs her night and day to feed it what it desires, and she’s been stubbornly refusing to partake in it. However, seeing as how her appetite is starting to become too much of a hindrance she’s started to reconsider. “Painkillers or over the counter medicines don’t work. I’ve just learned to deal with it at this point.” She answers.
“I see.” He ponders what she all said to him. What condition could this be? There are many possibilities that run through his mind, but he just keeps going in circles. Erica stops his thoughts from circling any further when she speaks up. “Are you going to reprimand me?” 

 Her question would have made him laugh had it not been for his mind being overrun with thoughts and theories, but he decides to let her slide for now. Her performance hasn’t been terrible per se, but her productivity has definitely lowered in the past few weeks. It’s not as good as he knows it could be, but he’s not going to make a fuss about it. He just acquired information about her that could be a turning point in his investigation, and he’s eager to pass this information onto Spencer. She might just be making an excuse for her lack of enthusiasm for her work, but it doesn’t matter to him. This is the first interesting thing he’s heard about her for weeks, and he wonders if this condition will show up in blood tests. He shrugs the thought off for now in order to dismiss her.

 He clears his throat, “No, Miss Slater. I was just concerned if anything might’ve been going on. I didn't intend to intrude on something so personal.” 

 His response makes her stomach feel sick with disgust; she knows he doesn’t give a damn about intruding in on her ‘personal’ business, but she decides to let it go for now in favor of just getting back to her desk. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.” She gives a straight smile. “Am I free to go back to my desk now?”

 Wesker eyes her before he nods. “Yes, of course. You are free to go.” He says, and Erica promptly stands and exits his office. She makes her way back to her chair, and she sighs a breath of relief once she sits down. God, that was so mentally draining. Wesker in and of himself is mentally draining, but she hopes the excuse she came up with is good enough to satiate him for a while. It might have just been the most stupid thing she could have said, but she isn’t worrying about that right now. She needs to focus on finding a way to satiate herself before something bad happens. Whether she wants to admit it or not — Sol is right.  

 She has to feed .

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Forest, Arklay Mountains.
TIME: ┃11:54:03 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Crickets chirp and harmonize in their lovely song, serenading the night as lightning bugs twinkle and flicker. The forest is freshly wet from a light rain shower just a few hours before, making the environment glitter underneath the faint light of the crescent moon. Erica pulls into a hidden clearing and parks her vehicle, cutting off the engine and slowly getting out of the car. The scent of dew and pine fills her nose, and a smile spreads across her lips as she takes a deep breath. She’s always loved the smell of rain, and it brings her a sense of comfort considering what she plans on doing tonight. She presses the lock button on her driver’s side door before closing it. She takes a look around her, observing the area to find a few branches to put over her car. She manages to locate several large branches that conveniently conceal her vehicle, and once she’s done she observes her work. 

 “Alright.” She whispers to herself, “Time to find something to eat.”

 Erica turns around and begins walking in the opposite direction of her car, wandering aimlessly through the wet greenery. She isn’t entirely sure what she’s on the hunt for — but it will probably be the first thing that she has the chance of eating. Her hunger grows by the second, and her stomach growls in anticipation as her feet step through piles of straw and thicket. Then, as if her mind had manifested what her appetite craved, someone’s scent wafts past her nose. She pauses and sniffs the air, and her eyes dilate in excitement.

 She immediately begins sprinting in the direction of the smell, thirsting for the source of food that’s lingering around in these woods with her. It doesn’t take her long to reach what she’s chasing after, and once she spots something in the distance she changes her pace to slowly creep forward. She notices that there’s a black SUV parked on a trail, not moving or doing anything. The engine is still running, indicated by the lights being on and the exhaust fumes spewing from underneath the back of the vehicle. If she knows anything, she knows that it has to be one of Umbrella’s SUVs. What other kind of black SUV would be driving around in the middle of Raccoon Forest at midnight? The sound of footsteps turns her attention to the left, and she observes what looks and smells like a man walking into the bushes. She eyes the SUV again before her stomach interrupts her, urging her to go after the man who walked into the bushes.

 In fact, her whole body begins to urge her forward, immediately beginning to transform her human skin into her monstrous complexion. She clenches her jaw, still afraid of her grotesque transformation as she watches her skin change to a veiny purple and a deep red. ‘Don’t be scared.’ She tells herself, ‘It only hurts for a second.’  Her body contorts and her hair falls out, but she manages to keep quiet, hunching over on the ground while her nails and teeth turn into serrated weapons and her tail extends from her body. She holds her breath as tendrils grow forth from her head, and once the transformation is complete she runs her long, slithering tongue over her teeth. 

 “ DiNnEr TiMe~ ” 

 She stands and climbs up the tree next to her with immense speed, grunting as she reaches the top and lunges to the one across from her. She finds the tree closest to her target and stops for a moment, allowing for the disturbed bark to fall from the tree and gain his attention. The Umbrella security guard is standing there with his pants half down and his hand on his dick, quietly relieving himself before the sound of bark hitting the ground makes him stop. “What the?” He turns around to glance behind him, but he doesn’t see anything. He furrows his brows, looking around before he decides to shrug it off, turning back around to continue taking a piss. “Probably just some squirrels fucking around up there.” He mutters before he shakes himself off and puts himself back in his pants. 

 Just as the guard zips his pants up, something slams onto the ground behind him. His heart instantly drops into the pit of his stomach, and his body becomes hot with worry. What the fuck was that? And why was it just behind him? He grabs his flashlight from his pocket, clicking the power button and turning around to shine it on whatever just fell on the ground. What he doesn’t expect to see is a creature he doesn’t even know how to begin to describe, but he knows that it has the face of something he’d see in his nightmares. He’s about to let out a scream of horror, but before he has the chance to let air fill his lungs Erica effortlessly shoves the tip of her tail into the back of his throat. He gags and gurgles for a moment until his body goes limp, and after he’s done she promptly removes her tail from his mouth.

 Her tail wags with content as she leans down to feast on his body, but as her teeth are about to sink into his flesh she’s stopped by the sound of someone’s voice.

 “Danny! Where the hell are you, man?”

 Erica pauses, listening in as the sound of footsteps inches closer and closer. She doesn’t want to raise any alarms — she just wants to make a quick kill, have a fast meal, and get out of there before she raises any suspicions. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have time to finish her meal, and she sure doesn't have enough time to hide herself or the body, so what does she do? How can she disguise herself? Can she even do that? She knows she can imitate people’s voices, so why wouldn’t she be able to imitate someone’s appearance? She glances down at the body of the guard, and she stands up. She furrows her brows and closes her eyes. ‘Okay, body. I need you to change into this guy. Change. Change. Change.’ She mentally repeats, hoping if she manifests the transformation happening in her mind it will actually happen. She opens her eyes to look down at herself, and nothing has changed. She squeezes her eyes closed, her heart racing as the man gets near. “Please change. Change. Change. Change.” She whispers, anticipation making her heart beat faster and faster. 

 When the man is right in front of her, she opens her eyes and decides that she’s just going to fuck it and go for it. She’ll make his death quick. After she jumps out from behind the thick, large bushes, the man screams in response. “AHHH! Danny ! What the fuck is wrong with you, man?! You scared the shit out of me!”

 His reaction takes her off guard, and she looks down at herself again. Her appearance resembles that of the guard she just killed — right down to the very clothes on his back. She raises her brows. ‘Oh, shit. It actually worked.’ She thinks, but confusion washes over her. ‘A bit too well. Where did these clothes come from?’ She asks herself before she glances back at the guard in front of her. He might be wondering why she hasn’t said anything yet. “Oh uh, sorry, man. I was just about to come out.” She says, mimicking the voice of the deceased guard.

 “Why didn’t you answer me the first time I called you?” The guard huffs.

 “I guess I was in my own world.” Erica jokes, and the guard turns around to head back to the SUV. “Well come back to planet fucking Earth and hurry on back to the car. We’re supposed to be patrolling, not daydreaming.” He retorts, and Erica follows behind him. She doesn’t know where this is going, but hopefully it will end in him being dead soon. When they reach the vehicle, Erica opens the door and gets into the passenger side. She quickly glances in the back, and she notices that there’s no one else in the vehicle. ‘Great.’ She muses to herself, and when the guard gets into the driver’s seat he turns to her. “What took you so long anyways?”

 “I thought I saw something and it gave me a little spook, that’s all.” She nervously laughs, and the guard puts the car into drive. He chuckles, “Yeah. I’d be spooked too if I knew what was in these woods.” 

 Erica watches him, eyeing the Umbrella emblem on his shoulder. It churns her stomach with disdain, and she turns away from him, silently wondering what she should do; should she attack him now? Does she just keep pretending? Does she try to get information out of him? She looks at her reflection in the side mirror, and it makes her furrow her brows in thought. How is it that she’s so aware right now? Why does she feel like she has so much control this time? How come her violent appetite isn’t making the choice for her? Her stomach gurgles as the thought crosses her mind, reminding her that her appetite still remains. She turns to the guard once more, mentally reminding herself to stick to her plan and satiate the desire of what she came here to do. “Have you heard anything about a monster in the woods lately?” She asks.

 The guard looks at her with confusion before turning back to the road. “Not that I’m aware of. What have you heard?”

 Erica’s teeth grow sharp, and she runs her tongue over her teeth. She hisses at the guard as she faces her body towards him. “ I hEaRd ShE wAs GoInG tO eAt YoU aLl Up… ” She remarks, and when he notices her appearance he yells in terror. Her nails extend, and with her sharp talons she swings her hand forward and sinks them into the middle of his chest — right into the center of his heart. The guard’s body starts shutting down; his hands letting go of the steering wheel as he starts to bleed out. He looks at her one last time as a tear drips down his cheek, and after he takes his last breath the vehicle comes to a slow stop in front of a tree. Erica’s body begins to distort, and it starts changing back into her Tyrant form. She watches the guard’s deceased face as her monstrous body returns to her, and without even allowing the change to finish she sinks her teeth into the guard’s body. She tears away at his flesh, using her hands and teeth to pull and rip away whatever meat she can get her hands on. The sounds of meat being ripped from the bone and the smacking of her lips is the only sound she hears, never discouraging her from devouring her food. She keeps eating until her fingernails are scraping meat off his bones, with which she decides she’s finished with him.

 After she swallows her last bite of him, she crawls out of the vehicle to start seeking out her first kill. She shouldn’t waste her food, after all. She sniffs the air, smelling for the blood that’s more than likely still seeping out of the security guard’s head. When the stench of his blood reaches her nose, she takes off in the direction of the scent. She finds his body behind the same large bushes from before and swiftly begins eating it, disemboweling and consuming it just like the other one. Once she feels satisfied, she licks her lips clean, using her forearm to wipe some bits of flesh off the side of her mouth. The tangy taste of blood still lingers on her tongue as her body starts reverting back into its human form, and she smacks her lips, savoring the taste of copper coating the inside of her mouth. She feels so much better now that she’s been fed. She breathes in a breath of what feels like new, fresh air, and she’s filled with a roaring energy that perks her once exhausted body right up. Her mind feels rejuvenated all over again, giving her a sense of refreshment.

 When her skin has returned to its normal hue and her hair has grown back to its full length, she looks down at herself and notices her clothes are ripped and tattered. Luckily for her, she’s one step ahead of herself. She had a feeling her clothes would end up destroyed like the last time, so she brought an extra pair of clothes to change into in her car, along with some supplies to wipe and clean off the blood. She’s glad she thought ahead, and with that thought she sets off back to her camouflaged vehicle to remove her clothes and clean herself up.

 She makes it back to her car in what felt like no time at all, and she pulls the branches off of her car in order to get inside. She pulls her keys from her back pocket, unlocks the car, and opens her passenger door to pull out a plastic bag containing a pair of sweatpants, a sweatshirt, some wet wipes, and some paper towels. She removes her clothes, tossing them onto the ground next to her before she reaches over and grabs a few wet wipes. She wipes her hands and face, making sure to get as much off as possible. She then wipes down her half naked body, followed by the dry paper towels to clean up what the wet wipes left behind. She tosses the ruined clothes and bloody wipes into the plastic bag, ties it up, and shoves it underneath the passenger seat. She shoves the wet wipes and paper towels into the glove compartment before shutting the passenger door and walking around to the driver’s side.

 She gets into her vehicle and puts the key into the ignition, starting the engine but not turning on her headlights. She slowly pulls out of the clearing, easing her way onto the dirt road so she can make her exit. She drives for a mile or two before she flicks on her headlights, pulling onto the main road going towards Raccoon City. She glances in her rear view mirror to see if anyone might be following her, but to her relief she sees no one. She sighs and leans back in her seat, relaxing into the leather as she drives in the direction of her apartment. “Well, that went a lot better than I expected.” She remarks to herself, turning on her car’s bright lights. “Hopefully it’ll stay that way.” She jokes.

 However, she can’t help but wonder why tonight was so different compared to the other times she’s transformed. Why did she have so much control this time? Why wasn’t her mind clouded with thoughts of death and murder? Is it because she was willingly indulging in her awful sin? It perturbs her, but she sets the thought to the side for now. She can worry about it in the morning.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Birkin Residence.
TIME: ┃12:38:56 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Wesker and William are currently sitting in William’s home office looking over some documents that had been brought home from the labs that evening, studying the results and recording their findings. Just as William is about to pass Wesker another document, his landline starts to ring. He looks at Wesker in confusion, who gives him a blank stare and motions his head for William to answer it. William wonders who is calling and what they could be calling for in the middle of the night like this, but when he picks the phone off the hook and presses it to his ear his wondering comes to an immediate end.

 “Hello? Yes, this is him.” William answers, and he intently listens in on what he’s being told. “I see…” He replies, and Wesker watches his colleague stare blankly before he turns to him. “Yes, he’s here.” William holds out the phone to Wesker, to which Wesker raises a brow and takes it from his hands. He presses the phone to his ear, and from the other line he learns of what has transpired tonight. It fills him with an undeniable concern, but he doesn’t let that show through his voice. “Okay, thank you for letting us know.” He responds, and with that he puts the phone back onto the hook. He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighs. 

 William eyes him, and he can see how much this situation frustrates Wesker. He’s never seen him so mind bogglingly all over the place before. He can see that it drives Wesker insane not knowing who or what is causing these deaths, and he knows Wesker would do anything to quench his thirst for answers. He also knows that Wesker will lose sleep over something like this, so he decides it’s probably time to pack up for the night. He clears his throat, “I think I’m uh, probably going to turn in for the night.”

 Wesker looks up at him, and he nods. “I suppose I should head home, then.” He stands and begins packing his things, placing a stack of folders and documents into a briefcase before closing it and picking it up. Wesker steps towards the door and William pipes up, “Make sure you get some rest, Albert.”

 Wesker glances at him, watching his colleague before responding. “You as well, William.” He states, exiting the room and closing the door behind him. “I’ll try.” William quietly murmurs to himself, turning to his desk to clean up his own mess before bed.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City, Missouri.
DATE: ┃ April 1st, 1998.
TIME: ┃1:56:02 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s Erica’s day off, and she’s decided to spend it by heading out to go shopping. She only managed to purchase a few items like a frilly shirt, a new pair of bell bottom jeans, and a cute pair of sandals before her stomach decided it was time to get something to eat. Something her body could naturally eat and digest. She opted for a little cafe on one of the city’s street corners, where she’s currently sitting outside at one of their tables enjoying a BLT with a side of onion rings. She takes another bite of her sandwich and hums in satisfaction, pleased with her lunch selection. She washes it down with some of her strawberry lemonade smoothie, but before she can take another bite of her delicious food the smell of perfume hits her senses. She’s smelled this perfume before…

 Erica turns around to spot a woman sitting behind her, and although she can’t see the woman’s face — she has a strong feeling she knows exactly who it is. She turns back around in her seat and sighs, “What do you want? I’m trying to have lunch.” She remarks, shoving an onion ring into her mouth with a crispy crunch.

 The woman chuckles, “You know what I’m here for, Erica.”

 Erica makes a face, contorting her nose in disgust and annoyance. Of course — why else would she be harassing her in the daytime? Ada may be persistent, but Erica won’t succumb to her charms like most of her pawns will. She has her own mission to worry about, and if anything Ada is getting in the way of that. More importantly, she’s a threat to what she’s trying to do; labeling her as a nuisance in Erica’s mind. “And you should know you won’t be getting what you want.” Erica taunts, and this causes a smirk to grow on Ada’s lips.

 “How about we make a deal, then?” Ada asks before a server approaches her with a menu and gives their customer service spiel. She thanks them and says she just wants a coffee, and this sends the server on their way to fill her order. Erica eats another onion ring as the server walks away. “You give me the information I want, and I give you whatever it is you want.” Ada adds, crossing her legs the opposite way as she leans back in her chair.

 Erica shrugs her off. “You can’t give me what I want, Ada.” She mutters, slouching over her food as she takes a few more bites of her sandwich. Nobody can give Erica what she wants — not what she truly wants. She wants to get revenge on Umbrella, make sure that every single one of their employees pays for their crimes, and protect anyone else from being subject to their horrible viruses. All those things are what she wants to accomplish, but deep down she wants the chance to be human again. Unfortunately, something like that just isn’t possible. It was one thing having her DNA fused with all those mutagens, but it would be an entirely different situation having them completely eradicated from her body. What kind of detrimental effects would that have on her body? Would she even be human again? Would she be able to survive something like that? She isn’t sure if she would even want to test something like that after all the testing she’s been through. She decides to let it go, because she won’t have to worry about that anytime soon or… ever .

 “Don’t you want to take Umbrella down? I have information for you that can do that.” Ada replies, and Erica takes a sip of her smoothie to wash down the last bite of her sandwich. Ada’s offer isn’t enticing to Erica at all, much less of any interest to her in the first place. She has all the information she could ever need to put Umbrella’s operation to an end, adding on to the fact that she’s walking proof of their crimes. Ada might as well give it a rest. “I don’t need your help to do that. I would actually prefer it if you would leave me alone and get out of my way.” Erica states, and she tosses another onion ring into her mouth as the server comes outside to give Ada her coffee. She thanks him before she sips from her coffee. ‘Mmm. Not bad.’ She hums to herself, satisfied with her hot beverage. She lets out a big, disappointed sigh. 

 “Well that’s just too bad. I thought us girls would’ve made a good team.” Ada jokes, and when the server approaches Erica she hands the server her payment. She tells him to keep the change, with which he thanks her and wishes her a good rest of the day. She then stands from her seat and pushes the chair back underneath the table. She gathers her purse, shopping bags, and smoothie, and before she makes her departure she looks at Ada. “You thought wrong.” 

 She takes a few steps forward before Ada says her name. “Erica.” 

 Erica turns around, fingers curled around the straps of her belongings. She studies Ada’s features that have now softened. “Stay safe.” The dark haired woman advises, and Erica purses her lips in response. It irks her that Ada would warn her after threatening her with a gun all those weeks ago, but as long as she stays out of the way she could care less what strange mind games Ada thinks she’s playing. “ Yeah . You, too.” She says and quickly makes her leave. Ada watches her walk away, and she continues watching her until she makes it down the end of the street and turns the corner, out of her sight. 

 ‘There’s something so peculiar about that woman…’ Ada thinks to herself. She finds it hard to believe the rumors about Erica are true, and she questions if she’s truly capable of such sick slayings. It took her by surprise to see Erica put on such a tough act when it took so little to make her crumble; falling apart at the mere mention of her being underneath the watchful eyes of more than just Umbrella. Just who was Erica before she was so sought after? Was she the same or a completely different person? It’s not like Ada hasn’t taken the liberty of looking through her history in her efforts to find out who Erica is, but the information listed feels entirely fabricated. Why does it feel like a lie? Why does it feel as if someone wrote a story and filled in the blanks?

 It might just be her intuition fooling her, but Ada is determined to know who and what Erica really is. She sips from her coffee, making note to stop by the Arklay Facility to give John a visit. She hasn’t seen him in a few weeks…and she’s counting on him spilling new details to her once she steps in through his office door.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃███.
PLACE: ┃█ ███, ████.
TIME: ┃█:██:██ ██.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 The obnoxious sting of a blaring light burns through her eyelids before she even opens her eyes, and upon doing so she reaches her hand up to block the glare from shining into her retinas. She blinks her eyes open a few times, trying to adjust her vision to the now brightly lit environment. Her heart sinks into the pit of her stomach when she recognizes the room she’s residing in. She knows these floors…these cold, cold floors. She knows these walls; lined with soundproof padding so no one can hear her screams. She knows that same bed sitting center against the wall, resting right across from that same table with that same set of chairs on the opposite sides. 

 Erica knows this place all too well, and when she turns around to see her reflection in the black void of a glass wall, her throat begins to swell with fear. She can’t be back here. There’s no way this is real. Her eyes travel down to her clothes, and she’s wearing the same white attire she was forced to wear under Umbrella’s capture. She starts to hyperventilate, backing away from the glass wall. This can’t be real. It can’t. It can’t, it can’t, it can’t. As her breathing picks up, her mouth is suddenly hit with the twangy taste of iron. She touches her lips, and when she pulls her hand away it’s covered with blood. She looks back down at herself to see that her clothes are soaked with blood, too.  Tears start to form in her eyes, and she eyes her reflection again to spot someone’s body behind her.

 She whips her head around to see that it’s the same researcher she killed during Umbrella’s experiments…the very first victim of her horrifying appetite. ‘ No! This is just a memory. This isn’t real. I’m just having a nightmare.’ She tells herself, immediately retracting away from the researcher’s body. She slams her back into the cold glass, instantly shattering it into millions upon millions of pieces. This takes her by surprise, and she gasps as she falls backwards; the sound of shattered glass clinking against the ground in the room she’s fallen into. It’s the room that was adjacent to her cell — the room where Umbrella’s researchers, employees, and probably even representatives would watch her suffer. They would watch her get injected or do the injecting themselves, and they would step back just to see if she could last long enough for the next dosage. 

 There’s several employees in the room looking at her, and all of their faces are morphed into a distorted swirl…except for two of the very men responsible for her suffering. Albert Wesker and William Birkin, who are standing there in disbelief, in total awe at what they are seeing. 

 It seemed like they were going through the motions of their everyday lives at Umbrella, visiting every test subject and recording any kind of progressions or deaths. Little did they expect, however, to witness Erica falling out of one of the testing rooms. Since when was Erica one of their test subjects? That can’t be right. They would know about something like this. Is this even real? They all stare at each other until Erica gets up, taking off in the direction of the door. She manages to slip past the both of them before they have any chance to react, still awe-struck at what they just witnessed. Erica sprints down the long, maze-like hallways of the NEST facility, letting her adrenaline and sheer fear take hold of her running.

 William and Wesker are hot on her tail, pushing and shoving people out of their way in order to chase after her.

 William grunts in irritation, “Why are all of you just standing there?! Get her!” He demands, but Wesker still pushes on even without the help of the faceless employees. 

 “Because they’re not real, William. None of this is.” He states.  He knows this isn’t real, drawing the conclusion that this is a dream. What he doesn’t know is why Erica is in his dream. Why would he dream of her in the NEST facility? Why does she always look different than what she appears as? Why is he dreaming of her in a situation he knows didn’t happen? It’s all so odd to him, but maybe if he pursues her in any way he can — whether it be set in reality or in his dreams — he’ll get his answers.

 When Erica reaches a dead-end, she tries to turn too fast and ends up slipping on the floor. Her body slams against the cold vinyl floor and she whines at the pain, but when she looks up and sees her adversaries rounding the corner she urgently picks herself back up to find somewhere to hide. She has nowhere else to run, so her best bet would be to hide. She enters one of the labs, sinking to the floor below and crawling somewhere that her body could fit without raising suspicions. As she’s crawling, her eyes meet one of the incubation tubes in the corner. 

 The body floating inside of the tank catches her immediate attention because she recognizes it as being her own. She quietly stands, staring up at her own face as she reaches her hand out to the glass. From her touch, the lights illuminating the inside of the tube shut off, coating the room in darkness. Just as this happens, someone grabs her shoulder from behind. 

 “ NOOOO! ” Erica screams, and with her scream it causes her to shoot up in her bed. She’s drenched in sweat, panting heavily and now shaking from a sudden wave of nausea running rampant through her body. She catches her breath before she gets up and runs to the bathroom, flicking on the light and flipping up the toilet seat to vomit right into the bowl. She gasps and chokes before she vomits again, dripping from her mouth as she starts to sob. Tears coat her cheeks, and she spits into the bowl before she grabs some toilet paper to wipe her mouth. She sniffles as she throws the tissue into the toilet, stands, and closes the toilet lid to flush. 

 She washes her hands, and while she’s washing she looks up into her reflection. Her hair is messy, her eyes have bags underneath them, and she just looks utterly exhausted. She frowns at her appearance, and after she dries her hands she turns off the bathroom light and heads back to crawl in her bed.

 As she gets into her bed, Erica lays on her back staring up at the ceiling, wondering what her nightmare could mean. She grips her blankets, hoping that Wesker doesn’t know a thing and it’s just her mind playing games with her. It doesn’t explain why William was there, chasing after her with as much determination as Wesker. Does that mean he’s onto her, too? Are they spying on Erica when she’s babysitting Sherry? Are they using Sherry as a pawn against her? She furrows her brows and turns on her side, pushing her thoughts aside for now. For now, she’s going to focus on going back to sleep — she has to get up for work in the morning.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃ April 3rd, 1998.
TIME: ┃5:01:02 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s the end of her shift, and Erica is packing up her things getting ready to go when she hears footsteps grow closer. She feels her heart rate pick up hearing someone creep up behind her, but it goes back to normal when she turns around and sees that it’s Chris walking towards her. He has a look of determination on his face, and when he draws near he clears his throat. 

 “Hey, Erica.” 

 “Hey, Chris. What’s up?” She asks, staring into his sparkling eyes. 

 Even though she only fed just a week ago, Erica always feels an insatiable craving for Chris whenever he’s around. Her hungry gaze captures him in a trap every time he looks into her eyes, but he grips his keys, bringing him back to reality to get to his reason for approaching her. Ever since Erica has arrived in Raccoon City things just haven’t made sense. The way he feels this constant deja vu around her, the way her eyes glowed after his party, and even the conversation they had at Barry’s barbecue. He still doesn’t believe her when she said she ‘thought it was better that they remained friends.’ He believes there’s more to it than that, and she’s keeping secrets from him.

 Anytime he would try to ask Jill advice about it, she would dodge his questions or tell him to talk to Erica about it. At some point she just told him to let it go, which made him feel more suspicious of it all. Does Jill know something that he doesn’t? Are she and Erica hiding things from him? He might just be being paranoid, but something in his gut is screaming at him to listen to his intuition. Since asking Jill obviously hasn’t gotten him anywhere, he might as well follow one good piece of Jill’s advice and ask Erica herself.

 “Is there any chance you and I could have a talk? Privately?” He questions.

 Erica swallows, unsure of where this is going. What could he want to talk to her about? Sherry is probably already waiting for her in the lobby, so she hopes it won’t take too long. She slides her purse strap over her shoulder, “Yeah, um. I’m about to babysit for someone, but we can talk in the garage if that’s fine.”

 That isn’t exactly what Chris had in mind, but all that matters to him is that she accepted. Plus, he was heading in the same direction anyways so it all works out. His mind swirls with eagerness, ready for them to be alone so he can voice what he wants to say. The two of them walk out of the S.T.A.R.S. office, strolling side by side as they make their way to the second floor of the lobby and down the stairs to the main floor. Sherry, sitting in one of the waiting chairs, spots Erica from the other side of the room. But…it looks like she’s walking with someone, and she questions who it might be. Whoever it is, she’s just ready to spend time with Erica. She’s always ready to spend time with her.

 “Hey, Miss Erica!”

 Erica smiles as she spots Sherry running towards her, “Hey, Sherry.”

 Chris glances at the girl rapidly coming towards them, and at first he’s taken aback but he quickly realizes it’s just her excitement to see Erica. She must have quite the impression to make a child beam at her with such admiration, and it simply gives him another reason to find her attractive. He knows he’s seen Erica leave with the girl here and there, but he’s never been formally introduced to her. He gives her a friendly grin, “Who’s this little lady?”

 “This is — ” Erica starts, but Sherry quickly interrupts her.

 “My name is Sherry Birkin. Who are you ?” Sherry states, staring at Chris’s handsome face. She couldn’t see him from afar but now that she’s up close she can see that he’s a total hunk. She might be only eleven years old but she knows a cute guy when she sees one, and Chris fits that description. 

 Chris holds out a hand for the girl to shake,  “Chris Redfield, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 Sherry takes his hand; her tiny one engulfed by his much bigger one. She shakes it with a smile. “Indeed.” She giggles.

 A smile spreads across Erica’s lips, and she quickly punches her timecard. “Are you ready to go, Sherry?” She asks, turning back to Sherry once she's done. Sherry nods; her hands tightly around her backpack straps. “Yes, ma’am.” This prompts them to all start walking towards the elevator to head down into the employee garage. Once they reach the garage, Erica looks at Chris. “I’m just gonna put her in the car and we can talk for a minute, okay?”

 Chris subtly nods his head in agreement, and Sherry pouts her lip at the statement. That’s not fair. She wanted to be nosy…

 Erica unlocks her car and opens the passenger door for Sherry, allowing the girl to get inside. She closes it behind her, and she turns around to face Chris. “What did you want to talk about?” She asks, looking at him with expectancy. Sherry sits in the passenger seat, trying to listen in through the car’s window. Chris puts his hands in his pockets, using it as a distraction so he won’t stumble over his words just by looking at her. He takes a deep breath. 

 “Listen, Erica. I hate to bother you with this and sound like a broken record, but…I just want the truth. About everything. About what happened at the party, about what you said at that barbeque, and why you have such a habit of ignoring me. Why won’t you just give me some closure?” He explains, and Erica stares at him trying to gather her thoughts. Does she finally tell him? Does she finally stop being such a coward and show him her files? If she can tell Jill, surely she can tell Chris. Of course, it was under entirely different circumstances, but Erica has the chance to fully explain herself this time. She can at least approach Chris with a bit of context before she shows him what Umbrella did to her, and hopefully he won’t hate her or end up committing murder in response. 

 She finally relents, and sucks in a breath. “Alright, Chris.” She replies, “I’ll tell you the truth, but we need to talk about this somewhere private. Are you free to come to my apartment tomorrow?”

 Chris didn’t expect her to give him such a response, but he’s relieved that he’s finally going to learn the truth. He might have to cover someone's nightshift tomorrow, but he can make time to swing by her apartment. She makes it out to be a bigger deal than he initially thought, and he wonders what she could possibly tell him. 

 He nods, “Uh, yeah. I can stop by. Is 8 o'clock good for you?”

 “Yeah, that works.” She says, giving him a straight smile. He gives her one back before he turns to walk away. “I’ll see you around, Erica.” 

 “You, too, Chris.” She watches him walk away for a few seconds before she walks around to the driver’s side to get into the car. After she closes the door behind her, she inhales and exhales. “Alright, let’s go.” 

 Sherry looks at Erica with a look of confusion. “What the heck was that ?”

 “What do you mean?” Erica asks, and Sherry shakes her head. “You know what I mean. Why are you ignoring such a hottie?” 

 Erica gasps, taken aback by what this little girl just said. “Sherry!” She laughs, her face turning a light shade of red from embarrassment. 

 Sherry smiles, “What?! I’m just stating the obvious!” 

 Erica can’t believe even a little girl can see how badly she struggles with communicating. She tries to brush it off, hoping Sherry won’t press the conversation any further. She already berates herself; she doesn’t need to hear it from anyone else, much less a child. “It’s…complicated.” Erica murmurs, trying to change the subject. ‘Complicated’ is an understatement. It’s more convoluted than anything else. She starts the engine and puts the car in drive, pulling out and heading towards the garage exit. Sherry purses her lips, not believing what Erica just said. It’s not as complicated as Erica makes it out to be; it just seems like something happened between them and Erica doesn’t want to talk about it when he does. It’s really simple actually. However, Sherry doesn’t say anything else after that. Maybe Erica just doesn’t want to talk about it, and she can respect that.

 As she looks out the window she leans herself against the door, making herself comfortable until they would finally arrive home. The dull noise of the car engine and the radio on low volume is enough to lull Sherry to sleep, and she ends up passing out not even five minutes into the ride. Erica glances over and notices the girl asleep, and she smiles before turning her attention back to the road. It slowly fades, however, when she thinks about what she just told Chris. She knows because of the conversation she and Chris just shared she’s going to have to follow it up by telling him everything. She’s going to have to tell him everything about Umbrella, about how they met, and about what her plan is. She bites her lip at the thought, and she sighs. 

 It was bound to happen sooner than later, and it’s probably for the best that she does it sooner. May 11th is getting close, and time isn’t going to slow down for them.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃ April 4th, 1998.
TIME: ┃7:48:34 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

 Erica looks over at Jill who’s getting ready to head out of the door, and she has a concerned look on her face. She knows what Erica is about to do isn’t going to be easy, so she wants her to know she’s available if things go awry. It’s not like Jill thinks that Chris would fly off the handle just like that, but she isn’t sure if he’ll take any of the information he’s going to learn well. Which is why she’s offering her presence to Erica in the first place — she wants to make sure he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

 Erica takes in Jill’s words, and while she’s thankful for the offer, she doesn’t need Jill’s assistance for this. She wants to talk to Chris one on one with no distractions, and no offense to Jill but that includes her. Erica is tired of running and making excuses, and she’s tired of lying to Chris; he deserves to know just as much as Jill does. Hell, there are some things Erica hasn’t even told Jill about, because what could they do even if they did know? Run into danger and get killed? No, that’s Erica’s job. At least she can run into danger knowing with certainty that she would get back up and be just fine. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have any certainty Chris won’t blow up at her when he finds out what she has to tell him. She nods before she gets too caught up in her thoughts. She has to have a clear mind for what’s about to come. “Yeah, I…I think I wanna do this alone.” 

 Jill purses her lips, hopeful she can persuade her friend. “What if something goes wrong? Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

 Erica shrugs, trying to diminish the fear that she feels. It’s about time she got over her fears of doing things alone. “I guess I won’t know until I tell him.” She says, giving Jill a straight smile. Jill looks at Erica for a moment before looking at the floor defeated, and she gives her a reassuring smile. “Okay.” She says before she turns the door knob and opens the door. “Call me if you need me, alright?”

 “I will.” Erica murmurs. With that, Jill heads out the door. She starts heading back down to her apartment, and when she pulls out her keys to unlock her door she glances up the stairwell one last time. She bites her lip before unlocking her door and heading inside.

 Erica stands in her kitchen in silence, waiting for when the next sound might hit her ears to signal Chris’s arrival. Eventually she begins to pace, walking back and forth between her living room, down the hall, and back to the kitchen. This continues for what feels like forever, egged on by the sound of a clock’s tick ticking in the background, until the echo of footsteps slip from underneath her apartment door. She suddenly stops, and her heart begins to pound. As the sound gets closer and closer, her heart beats faster and faster. It echoes louder and louder until it’s at her very doorstep, to which a gentle knock taps against her door.

 Even though the sound was faint and she had been anticipating the noise, it was still enough to make her almost jump out of her skin. “Erica, it’s Chris.” A voice states from the other side of the door. She quietly steps over towards her door and opens it, greeting Chris with a faint smile. “Hey.”

 She opens the door wider for him to step inside, and he follows through by walking into the kitchen. She closes the door behind him, and once the soft ‘click’ of the door touches her ears she turns to face him. “Do you want anything to drink?”

 “Uh, no. I’m good. Thank you, though.” He replies, folding his arms and leaning back against Erica’s counter. Now that he thinks about it, has he even been in Erica’s apartment? He knows she and Jill live in the same building, but if his mind serves him well he can’t recall if he’s actually seen it. Now that he has, he can’t help but take a look around. It’s so bright and colorful; everywhere he looks feels like his eyes are being drawn to something interesting and new. Maybe he should make a note to come back so he can look at all the interesting pieces and trinkets. For now, he’s here for a different reason. “So what’s this all about?”

 Erica bites her lip. Her heart is practically pounding out of her chest, and her stomach is in infinite knots. ‘It’s okay, Erica. You can do this.’ She tells herself before she speaks up. “Excuse me for a minute.” She states before heading towards the direction of her guest bedroom. Chris furrows his brows in confusion, but he lets it go to wait patiently for her to come back. He makes himself busy by looking around her apartment a bit more, curious to see what other cool and kooky things Erica has. He didn’t even know she was into stuff like this. Once Erica returns, she’s carrying what looks like a binder in her hands. On the cover of the binder has what looks like a series of numbers and…Umbrella’s emblem? Why does Erica have this? Since when has she worked for Umbrella?

 “What’s that?” He asks, and Erica ignores his question, placing it on her coffee table in front of him. She sits down on the couch, facing Chris. Her throat feels like it’s swelling, but when she clears her throat it’s just fine. 

 “Do you remember the first day we met you asked me if we had met prior to that?” She questions.

 Chris is taken aback by what she just asked, but for some reason he’s glad he heard it. Did they really meet prior to her arrival at the department? If so, he’s glad to know he isn’t crazy for having deja vu after all. “Yeah?”

 Erica swallows. “Well, we did, but…it’s kind of hard to explain.”

 The words that come out of Erica’s mouth take Chris by surprise. So they did meet. He knew it! He knew he couldn’t just forget somebody like her. How could he? “What do you mean?” He inquires, hoping Erica might be able to shed more light on the subject. She has him practically on the edge of his seat at this point.

 ‘You can do this, Erica. Just take it one event at a time.’ Erica reassures herself as she stares at Chris’s expectant face. She takes a deep breath before she opens her mouth to reveal the truth. “Before I came to Raccoon City, I lived what people considered a normal life. I had a loving family, a decent job, and a nice car. I was thankful for just being able to sleep in a bed, much less live in a big house in a suburban neighborhood. But…something happened.” She starts to explain, prompting Chris to sit down on the couch opposite Erica. “One night a storm was coming through, and I figured I would take a shower before bed. During my shower, the whole room lit up in a flash. I vaguely remember screaming and the feeling of falling, but I was knocked unconscious before I could remember anything else.” She glances at Chris before breaking eye contact. “When I regained consciousness, I was laying in one of Raccoon Hospital’s beds with bloody bandages all over my arms and legs, my voice gone, and my body in excruciating pain. The nurse who tended to me told me that two S.T.A.R.S. members brought me to the hospital, and that one was waiting for me in the lobby.”

 Chris is intently listening to Erica’s story, horrified and confused at what she’s describing. However, once she mentions two S.T.A.R.S. members, he immediately begins to question their identities. Was he one of those S.T.A.R.S. members and he just didn’t realize who she was? No…that can’t be right. He would have remembered something like that. Erica keeps going before he has the chance to ask himself anything else.

 “When the waiting officer came to interview me, it turned out to be Jill. She wanted to know my name, where I was from, and what happened to me. She said you two found me on the outskirts of Raccoon City unconscious, naked, covered in blood, and on the verge of hypothermia. I had no money or identification, and as far as I knew I didn’t have any family available to me. As far as I knew — I was stuck in a hospital, in a town, and in a world that didn’t exist to me…”

 Chris’s mind is running around in circles, chasing assumptions and theories around in his mind trying to make sense of all this. Did they really meet each other through dire circumstances? No, no. That just doesn’t make sense. Again, he would have remembered something like that. He’s never gotten a report for something like that before, and if he had he would have definitely called it in. He doesn’t remember finding a woman with Jill — he doesn’t remember any of what she's saying…

 The statement that follows Erica’s explanation irks Chris even more, and he can’t help but focus on it. What does she mean “didn’t exist to me?” What about Raccoon City makes it seem like it doesn’t exist? Is Erica alright?

 “Erica, what the hell are you talking about? What do you mean didn’t exist to you? You’re kind of scaring me.”

 She frowns at Chris’s words. “I don’t mean to frighten you, Chris, but it’s the truth. None of this is real. Not you, not Jill, not anybody that you have ever known. All of this : S.T.A.R.S., Umbrella, Raccoon City — shit — this whole planet is a fictional manifestation made up by some billion dollar company. It’s a story . It’s not real …” Her eyes start to prickle with tears while Chris just stares at her in disbelief, a pang of guilt rippling through her body as the statement exits her mouth. It still hurts her to admit that she believed such a thing at one point, but that was then — this is now. “So when I was in that hospital bed I didn’t know what to make of my situation. I thought I was losing my mind, and I couldn’t find any reason to rationalize with what I was going through. Because I was so scared, I gave Jill a fake name and a fake story, and she took pity on me. She brought me into her apartment as a guest and allowed me to stay with her indefinitely.”

 Chris sighs and runs his hands through his hair. He feels like he’s just being jerked around; lied to again for the sake of avoiding accountability. None of this makes any sense to him, and he's sure it wouldn't make sense to anyone else, either. None of it happened, so why is Erica describing it in a way that makes it sound like it has? Has she lost her mind? Or has she been this crazy the entire time? Since she keeps mentioning Jill in this, has she manipulated Jill into feeding these delusions, too? “Where are you going with this? Are you saying Jill is in on this?”

 Erica quickly tries to defend herself; her neck hot from the rising anxiety at his apparent disbelief. “No, Chris. Just listen — ” 

 Chris stands up in response to this, getting defensive himself. He doesn't need to hear any of this. “I’ve been listening, and — ” She  stands from her own seat, raising her voice over his. “ Just listen! ” She demands, and he stares at her in silence. She takes this silence as a means to continue, speaking with a much more stern voice this time. She needs to emphasize just how serious this matter is to Chris so he can get the idea, no matter how ridiculous he thinks it may sound. “One of the hospital’s doctors took a blood sample from me while I was out cold, and that doctor sent that sample to Umbrella for them to take a look at. That unfortunately led to them finding my blood suitable for their research, and so they made it their priority to make sure I was in their custody. They tried kidnapping me from Jill’s apartment not even a week later, but they weren’t successful.”

 Chris is still quiet as she explains, but this brings forth a whole new barrage of questions. Wait a minute... Why would the hospital take a blood sample, much less send it to Umbrella? What kind of research is Umbrella conducting? What kind of research is it that would involve kidnapping someone? If it involves kidnapping, it probably isn't the legal kind. Wait, what is he talking about? This is crazy talk. She proceeds with her explanation, fueling his desire to leave even further.

 “After they failed, they decided to lay low for a while to catch me off guard. This allowed me to get close to you and Jill, and…” Erica gives Chris a look of sincerity, “...and, during that time I came to realize that all of this really is real. It may not be real where I come from, but the more I experienced here and shared friendships here it became real. It changed my perspective, and so I decided I was going to tell you and Jill the truth — the truth of who I was, where I came from, and what I knew about Umbrella. But…” She shifts her gaze down to the floor, remembering that night where she wrote that note; a note she addressed to both him and Jill in case something dire happened to her. Clearly, the note served its purpose. “Before I had the chance, Umbrella succeeded in getting what they wanted. They captured me, experimented on me, killed me…” She draws out, but she quickly snaps out of it, breaking out of her dissociation before continuing. “Apparently dying wasn’t enough for them. They wanted more, so they used another virus to revive me. They got what they wanted, but I didn’t wake up. When I didn't do that, they stuck my body into a glass tank, just waiting for when my next development would occur. I was able to get out before they could get any more from me and fled Raccoon City.”

 Chris is losing his mind as Erica is telling him things beyond his own imagination. First she's telling him that the world as he knows it isn't real, and that she's practically a time traveler. Not to mention now she’s accusing Umbrella, the company that practically runs Raccoon City, of experimenting on people, including her. Is she even aware of what she’s saying right now? Does she have any proof to validate her claims? 'Wait, no, Chris, it’s not possible for her to have proof because none of it is probable.' He scolds himself, mentally reminding himself that this is real life. This all has to be some kind of joke; a joke that's been played on him long enough. He just wants the truth from her, and after all her string of excuses now she's telling him this tale of human experimentation and kidnapping. Is this just some story she made up to get out of telling him the real truth?

 Erica can see that she’s losing him, so she decides to hurry up and get to the point. “What I didn’t know was that the people who had transported me to Raccoon City in the first place had been watching me from the start, and after seeing what I had been through they granted me the chance to go back home. Unfortunately…there was a catch. If I went home, I would have gotten what I wanted, but I would never see you again and nobody would remember me or what happened during the time I was in Raccoon City. I…” She murmurs. “I chose to go home.”

 She can’t look at him when she says she made the decision to leave him, even if it might not impact him the same way. It killed her knowing she'd given up ever seeing them again, and seeing Chris stand in front of her now solidifies that guilt. “When I got home, the people who brought me to Raccoon City and back home gave me a device that would allow me to travel to and from both of those places at my own free will. They reminded me of the price I paid, and so I believed it was better to put it away and pretend like nothing ever happened. I wanted to go back to my normal life and act like it was all a dream, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get what happened out of my head no matter how hard I tried. Drugs, therapy, sleep; nothing worked. I just couldn't be human anymore... so, I came back." She blinks her watery eyes, "Back to tell you and Jill and all the other S.T.A.R.S. members about everything so we can put a stop to Umbrella's crimes and save everybody.” She finishes, clasping her hands together and looking up at Chris. She hopes her explanation is enough to make him believe her, but with each passing moment her expectant face starts to fall. 

 He watches her for a moment before he reaches a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He sighs in annoyance, and she can hear it in his voice. “Erica, I’d hate to discredit what you’re saying, but this just sounds like one big convoluted story. How am I supposed to believe you?” His response makes her face change into disappointment, and he further drills it in when he denies her any sliver of belief. “Is this just your way of blowing me off?”

  Erica shakes her head and reaches for the binder. Maybe if he sees some proof he’ll change his mind. She grabs it and holds it out towards him. “No, Chris. Just look at these documents and they’ll show you — ”

  Chris just shakes his head at her, disappointed that she would just lie to him like that. It’s even worse that she involved Jill in it, much less involved him. “Erica — ” She blocks out anything that might come out of his mouth because she doesn’t want to hear it, and she practically begs him to look over the documents. “Please! Look at them!”

 “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.” He says, walking around the table to head towards the front door. She begins to panic, and with a rush of adrenaline she tosses the binder back on the table and starts to violently rip off her shirt. She has another piece of proof if the binder isn’t enough for him, and she'll do what she has to do to make him believe her. “If you won’t look at that, then look at this!” She yells, struggling to get out of her shirt. When he turns around he doesn’t expect to see Erica shirtless with her back turned to him, but he also doesn’t expect to see what looks like a barcode and series of numbers on top. He draws closer, and he instantly realizes that they’re the same series of numbers that are listed on the Umbrella emblazoned binder. His brows furrow as he examines her skin, wanting to reach out and touch it but too afraid to intrude. “What…is that?”

 Erica stares at the floor, eyes watering as she envisions the tattoo in her mind. She's seen it in the mirror too many times to count to not know what it looks like. “It’s my subject number — the same number written on that binder.” She puts her shirt back on and turns around to face him. “Do you honestly think I come across as the type of person who would tattoo an identification number on myself just to blow you off?”

 Chris observes Erica’s eyes, and no matter how hard he tries to deny it her eyes scream sincerity and truth. Her story might be unbelievable and relatively easy to conjure up, but this tattoo isn’t. “No, but…” He can’t find the words to say anything, and so she reaches over to grab the binder again, holding it back out to him. “Then, please.” She says. “Read this.”

 He’s apprehensive when he takes it from her hands, worried if he reads this he might read into something that might change his perspective on life forever. He might actually believe Erica, and that’s the craziest part out of all of this. There’s a tiny ounce of him that does believe her, but he has to be a realist. It could only be something that could happen in a fictional world, but if he’s going by what she said, then…

 Chris looks at Erica one last time, hoping that she’ll tell him ‘sike’ any second now, but she doesn’t. She just keeps looking at him with hope that he’ll believe her, and seeing such hope in her face makes his chest crumble in defeat. Alright, fine. He'll read it.

 He sits down on the couch and opens the binder, taking his own gander at the contents. As soon as he opens it, he’s startled by the pictures he sees. There are so many that they had to put them in a clear, velcro slip as to not lose any of them. He can see pictures of Erica in candid situations, some that include himself and Jill or even other S.T.A.R.S. members. Pictures of Erica are at Jill’s apartment, Chris’s apartment balcony, the Police Department, Black Jack’s, and even Emmy’s. In all these pictures of Erica, however, they show her with a completely different hair color, and she looks so…scared in a majority of them. These pictures aren't easy to fake, and Chris feels his stomach tighten with morbid anxiety. When he turns his attention to the first document in the binder, he doesn’t realize what he’s in for.

 The first thing he notices is Wesker’s name, and his stomach clenches with disgust and betrayal. What the fuck? Why is Wesker’s name attached to this document? Is he secretly working for Umbrella? More importantly, is he involved in what Erica claims was her experimentation? He immediately reads on, and when he reaches the end of the document, his meal from earlier rumbles. Reading this disturbs him to an extreme degree, but everything written lines up with what Erica stated, making him consider that maybe she really is telling the truth. He reads on, flipping over to the next set of documents and recoded data, then the next, and the next. He reads through every single one until he reaches the end, where he sees a collage of pictures containing Erica floating in a big glass tube. This makes him pause, and he picks it up to give it a closer look.

 He might just be going crazy like Erica, but seeing this image ignites a memory of a dream he had the other night. He dreamt that he woke up in some kind of lab; a cold, sterile one. It was dark, and he could barely see anything aside from a bright glow on the other side of the room. He decided to go towards it so he could take in his surroundings, but before he could get any further the hiss of an automatic door opening stopped him. Someone ran into the room with great urgency, and he listened for a moment before it went silent. He took the silence as a means to continue towards the light, and once there, he instantly noticed a body floating inside of a glowing, glass tube. He recognized it as Erica's body, and after he did he was hit with a wave of confusion. Why was Erica there? Why was she in that tank? What was going on? Before he knew it someone appeared at the base of the tube. He didn't recognize who it was at first and reached out a hand for them. As soon as his fingers grazed the stranger's shoulder he woke up. He didn’t know what it meant or why he saw Erica that way, but now that he sees a physical photograph picturing what he saw in his dream it seals the deal for him. After all, how could Erica have pictures of something he dreamed of? Unless, it wasn't a dream at all...

 He closes the binder, and a rage he isn’t sure he’s ever felt before washes over him. Who could do such things to someone? How could someone subject another human being to suffering through something like that? How could they just put someone on display like that — for some kind of sick pleasure? Those bastards! If that isn't the worst of it, it angers him that his captain would be involved in something as heinous as this, much less Umbrella. He can’t believe Umbrella of all companies would actually do all of this, and he can’t believe all of this was inflicted on Erica. He looks up at her, and she’s looking down at him with a look of anticipation, ready to know what he has to say in response to her evidence. He can’t fathom what she’s possibly been through, and he honestly can’t fathom the fact that she came back to Raccoon City after getting away from all of that. Why would you?

 Staring into her blue eyes, he suddenly understands all of her excuses now. Now he knows why she kept avoiding him, why she bit him, why her eyes glowed, and why she told him they were better off as friends. It all makes sense now, and with a sense of clarity he places the binder on the table so he can stand. 

 He turns to Erica and grabs her arm, pulling her in for a tight hug. She squeaks as he pulls her into him, shock and confusion rushing over her senses. She didn’t expect him to reach out and grab her like that, and when he pulls her close to his chest her face flares up into a bright red. She can’t help but instinctively hug him back, and she also can’t help but start to cry at the feeling of his body against her own. She hasn’t been able to feel him close like this in so long, and being able to hug him without the thought of eating him for once makes a rush of emotion come crashing down on her. She digs her nails into his shirt, clinging onto him in hopes he’d stay here like this forever.

 “I’m sorry.” He says, his words vibrating against her neck as he says them. He means that, too. He's sorry those things happened to her, sorry that he didn't believe those things happened to her, and sorry he wasn't there to protect her when those things happened to her. No matter what horrific things she might have been forced to do, however, he doesn't view her any less. He clutches her clothes at the thought of her being in so much pain, and the sensation is enough to make her eyes start flooding. Does that mean he’s not mad at her? That he’s not angry at her for keeping things from him? That he doesn’t think she’s a monster? Obviously none of those things don’t matter now, what matters is that she’s finally come clean to him. She finally told him the truth, and now it's like a heavy weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. The moment of relief is enough for her to feel comfortable enough to start sobbing. “No, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you sooner, but — ”

 “Erica, no,” Chris pulls away from her to look at her teary face; cries enough to make his heart start to sting. “it’s okay. I’m not mad at you for not telling me.”

 Erica sniffles as she peers up at him. “You’re not?”

 “No…” He purses his lips. “But I am a little miffed that you didn’t tell me sooner.” This response causes her to look down sheepishly, a tear sliding down her cheek as she does so. “I know, I’m sorry...” Chris shakes his head, “No. Don’t apologize. You don’t have anything to apologize for. If anything I’m sorry for thinking you were crazy while you were telling me all this stuff.” He says, and this causes a slight laugh to come from Erica’s lips. “Trust me, I would have thought the same thing.” She jokes, which prompts a laugh from Chris.

 When it falls silent, Chris speaks up. “Does Jill know?” He asks, curious to know if their friend and colleague is aware of the situation. Erica nods. "Yeah, but don’t be mad that she knew before you. She kind of found my folders by accident…” She says, but he brushes off her explanation. He doesn't care about that. In fact, he's glad the two of them won't have to go through the hassle of telling her. “No, I’m not upset about that. I just wanted to know if she might have a plan for all of this.”

 Her face lights up upon hearing his statement. Did she just hear that right? Is Chris going to join and help? It’s not like she didn’t think he wouldn’t; she just expected him to be angry for a while before coming around. His sudden eagerness to get a head start makes her stomach flutter. “You mean you’re in?”

 He laughs. “Of course I am. I just — ”

 BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP . BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP .

 The sound of tiny beeping interrupts him, and he looks down at his watch. Oh, shit, he’s gotta be at the department soon. Like, now soon. He makes a face of annoyance before he looks at her. “Look, you and Jill can fill me in on the plan later. I have to work a graveyard shift with Forest and Joseph tonight.” He says, and a smile cracks at the corners of her lips. “Okay.” She replies, “But don’t say anything to them yet, okay? We need to plan out how to tell them in secret.” 

 Chris takes in her words before nodding in agreement. It's true; if they want to keep this under wraps, they'd have to tell the S.T.A.R.S. members one at a time. Planning out who to tell and in what order would have to be held off until later, though. “Yeah, alright.” He starts to make his way towards the door, but before he reaches out to grab the door handle he turns back to her. “You’re not gonna go back home and make us forget you again if I leave, are you?” A grin lingers on his lips as he asks her this, and when she registers what he said she feels a cheesy smile spread across her lips. “Heh. No. I won’t.”

 He watches her, and in the spur of the moment he walks up to her and places a soft kiss against her cheek. He softly smiles at her before turning back around and walking out of the apartment. When the door closes behind him, she reaches her hand up to touch the spot where Chris kissed her. She can still feel his lips lingering on her cheek, and her face turns into a shade of red. She bites her lip, and she wipes her face and eyes dry before making her way over to the phone on the wall.

 She has to call Jill and tell her to get back up here. They have a lot to talk about.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃ April 9th, 1998.
TIME: ┃02:13:01 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

  RING! RING! RRRIIINNNGGG!

 The shrill ring of the telephone echoes through the apartment, and it makes Erica almost jump out of her skin. What the hell? The sound of the phone going off the hook makes her rush out of the bathroom; her hair still dripping wet from the shower she just got out of. She has a towel wrapped around herself, holding it up as she steps towards the phone. “Who in the world could that be?” She asks herself. Just as it rings again, she pulls it off and puts it to her ear. “Hello?” She answers, and from the other line she can hear William Birkin’s voice. Oh …what does he want?

 “Hello, Miss Slater, this is Dr. Birkin. Are you busy at the moment?” He questions, and Erica puts the phone on her shoulder, keeping it to her ear. She readjusts her towel, closing it tighter around her. “Uh, no, sir. I’m not busy. What’s up?”

 “My wife and I have something to attend to tonight, and we were wondering if you could stay with Sherry tonight instead of going home.” William explains. What she doesn’t know is that they’re finalizing the T-Virus project, and he and Annette have to be present to observe one of the final tests at the Arklay Facility. Erica furrows her brows, wondering what William could mean. What could they be attending to? It doesn’t have anything to do with her does it? No, she’s just being paranoid. She shrugs it off and accepts the offer anyway. It’s not like she minds watching Sherry — she loves watching Sherry. One night in their house won’t kill her. Plus, she’s off tomorrow so it’s not a big deal. “Sure, that’s no problem at all.”

 “Great. There’s a spare bedroom for you to sleep in if you feel like using it.” He replies, and she raises her brows. “Oh, wow, okay, awesome.”

 “Yes. You have a nice night, Miss Slater.” He says, but before she has a chance to respond he hangs up. “You, t — ” BEEP, BEEP, BEEP . She furrows her brows and looks at the phone. “Well, bye, I guess.” She jokes, placing the phone back onto the hook. 

  Erica turns around to go back to the bathroom, making note to pack some clothes for tonight before she heads over to the Birkin’s home with Sherry. 

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Birkin residence.
TIME: ┃9:59:18 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 The television is still on, quietly playing a family friendly movie on low volume. Sherry is passed out on the couch; her mouth half hanging open as she lightly snores every now and then. Erica is about to fall asleep herself pretty soon, and as her eyes are fighting to stay open she glances over at Sherry. She should probably go ahead and wake the girl up so she can go get in her bed. Sleeping on a couch seems tempting when you’re tired, but when you wake up you start to feel that sleeping there wasn’t exactly a good idea. Erica plans on sleeping in the guest room down the hall, and so she feels even more compelled to wake the girl up seeing as they’d then be on the same floor.  She reaches her hand out to gently shake Sherry’s leg, and from her sleep she groans. 

 “Come on, Sherry. Let’s go get in your bed, okay?” Erica gently says, and Sherry whines. “I don’t wanna get up.”

 “I don’t wanna get up, either, but you’ll sleep better if you get in your bed.” Erica laughs.

 Sherry doesn’t say anything after that, and Erica purses her lips. “I’m gonna be in the guest bedroom right down the hall.” 

 Erica’s persuasion seems to have worked because once the words come out of her mouth, Sherry opens her eyes, blinking them open a few times to force them awake. She lets out a sigh of defeat before she sits up. “Alright.” She murmurs. She slides her body off of the couch, taking her blanket with her as she starts making her way up the stairs. Erica soon follows behind her after she shuts off the television and makes sure the doors are locked. Once the house is secure she starts walking up the flight of stairs, stopping by Sherry’s room to tuck her in before she goes to bed herself.

 When Sherry climbs into her bed, Erica steps up behind her to pull the comforters over her. It doesn’t take long for Sherry to get comfortable and fall back asleep, immediately closing her eyes and knocking out. As soon as Erica hears a snore, she can’t help but snicker. She didn’t realize just how tired Sherry was. A yawn slips past her lips, and when it does she realizes that she’s just as tired. “Goodnight, Sherry.” She whispers, turning off the lamp beside the girl’s bed. She pulls the door to when she steps out, and as soon as the door is shut —

  RING! RING! RING! 

 The echo of the telephone going off downstairs immediately grabs Erica’s attention, causing her to jump. She didn’t expect the phone to go off at this hour, but if anyone is going to call the house at a time like this it’s probably going to be the Birkins. One of them is probably calling to check in on how things are. As Erica heads downstairs, she can’t help but think it’s odd that they would call in the first place considering they’ve never called to check on things before. Hm…

 She flicks on the light to the kitchen and approaches the phone with apprehension, her heart beating faster and faster by the second. She grabs it off the hook and presses it to her ear, “Hello?”

 William is on the other end of the line, irritated that he had to wait so long. She should have answered as soon as it started ringing. He brushes his annoyance aside for now, now that she’s answered. He just wants to know how his daughter is doing. “Miss Slater, how are things going?”

 “Everything is fine. I just put Sherry to bed, and I’m about to head to bed myself.” Erica pauses, her eyes wandering to the staircase. “What time do you and Mrs. Birkin plan on being back in the morning?”

 William feels a sense of relief knowing his daughter is sound asleep, but he feels a sense of dread when this woman continues to speak to him. He would never admit it to Wesker, but there’s something about Erica that makes him feel afraid. At first he thought Wesker was crazy believing Erica could harm more than a fly, but as time has passed he’s started to change his mind. Whenever she looks at him, he can feel daggers in her stare. It’s like she knows something about  him that he doesn’t and she’s ready to rip him to shreds over it. He doesn’t know if it’s just Wesker’s theories getting to him or if he’s just losing his mind. He brushes it off for now to inform Erica of when he’ll return. “I’ll be home at six.”

 Wesker happens to be turning the corner at the same time he says this, looking for where William might have gone. He's riddled with irritation at the sudden disappearance of his colleague. How could he walk out like that? What the hell is he doing? Shouldn’t he be interested in the finalization stages of the Tyrant project? What could be more important than this?

 Erica nods. “Okay. I’ll see you then.”

 William swallows. “Yes. Goodnight, Miss Slater.”

 “You, too.” She replies before hanging up.

 William frowns as he hears the other line go dead, and he places the phone back on the hook with a sigh. Wesker appears behind him, and when William turns around he jumps. “Jesus, Wesker. Why do you insist on sneaking up on me like that?” He asks, but Wesker isn’t phased by his fright. In fact, he's amused by it. “What are you doing?” Wesker asks, curious as to what is taking his attention away from testing.

 William shakes his head, “Nothing worth frightening me over. I was just calling Miss Slater to check up on Sherry.” 

 “I thought Miss Slater would have gone home by now.” Wesker remarks, and William corrects him. “I asked her to stay the night with Sherry since neither I nor Annette would be home until the morning. Sherry practically begged us." He explains, adding, "It surprises me that she's not self sufficient enough to stay in the house by herself.”

 Upon the words exiting William’s mouth, Wesker suddenly has an epiphany. If Erica is staying the night to watch over Sherry, then that must imply Erica will be sleeping in the guest bedroom. With that being implied, that means Wesker might be able to acquire a hair sample from one of the pillows on the guest bed. William just allowed Wesker to have access to Erica’s DNA without even realizing it, and the revelation sends Wesker’s mind into a frenzy. Is he finally going to find out what Erica’s been hiding? Is he actually going to get somewhere in his investigation? Would finding out her identity finally pay off?
“What time did you tell her you would be coming home?” Wesker eagerly questions, and William furrows his brows. Why is Wesker so eager to know? What is he getting at? “I told her six. Why do you ask?”

 “Would you mind if I stopped by to retrieve something?” Wesker inquires, and William raises a brow. What could Wesker be retrieving? Did he leave something at his home that he didn’t realize was there? It’s not exactly like Wesker to forget things like that, but either way, William could care less. He shrugs, “Sure. I don’t see why not.”

 Wesker feels thrilled — excited even — at the prospect of getting some of Erica’s DNA. He’s elated to know he’s about to take a step into the direction he’s wanted for months now; now he has the ability to confirm if his suspicions are true or not. He lets his plans slip his mind for the time being, for he and William have places to be. 

 “Well, alright then. Shall you accompany me back to the screening?” 

 William nods in agreement, promptly following behind Wesker as they head back to their previous activities.

 Back at the Birkin home, Erica has already gone back upstairs to go to bed. She opens up the guest bedroom and flicks on the light, and she’s surprised to see just how nice of a guest bedroom it actually is. There’s a large, full sized bed to the right of the room, paired with two nightstands on either side of the bed. There’s an ottoman sitting in front of the bed, and a dresser sitting opposite of the bed. Erica closes the bedroom door behind her to step over to one of the nightstands, pulling the switch and turning on the lamp. She walks back over to the room’s lightswitch, flicks off the main overhead light, and walks back over to the bed. The bed looks comfortable; it’s not overrun with pillows, it’s decently sized, and as Erica slides under the covers she notices that it’s soft, too. ‘The Birkins may be shitty people, but they do not have shitty tastes.’ Erica thinks to herself, relaxing into the mattress.

 “They should ask me to stay the night more. This bed is more comfortable than mine.” She jokes to herself. She finds a comfortable enough position to lay in before she turns over to pull the light switch, coating the room into darkness after it clicks off. Her eyes wander to the crack of the door, staring at the night light flooding into the room. Erica can hear the tik tok of the grandfather clock sitting in the hallway, and as time passes the tics and tocs make her drift off to sleep.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Birkin residence
DATE: ┃ April 10th, 1998.
TIME: ┃06:28:42 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “Miss Slater, you can go home now.” 

 It’s the first sentence Erica hears when she jolts awake, and when she looks around the room she notices that William is standing in the guest bedroom’s doorway. She furrows her brows before running her hands across her face. “What time is it?” She groggily asks, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. William watches her as she climbs out of the bed and stretches. “It’s six thirty.” He says. “Go home and get some rest. My wife and I are going to be home for the day, so you won’t need to come back this evening.” He explains, and Erica nods her head.

 “Alright.” She replies, sighing in relief after she hears a crack. “Let me just make this bed really quick and I’ll head out.”

 William is quick to make an excuse on Wesker’s behalf after having been made aware of what his colleague’s intentions are, careful not to risk Erica removing any possible evidence. That includes remaking the bed. He wants it to be left exactly as it was when she got up, and so he lets her know to leave it be. “Oh, don’t worry about that. My wife and I will handle it.”

 Erica looks over at him and in her sleepy state she agrees, ready to just be back asleep. Hopefully she can force herself to stay awake long enough to make it back to her apartment; she's not keen on getting into a car accident just because she's tired. When she walks away from the bed, a sense of relief and cockiness rushes over him. He has her absolutely fooled and she doesn’t even know it. It makes him giddy, but he controls himself as to not give away what horrible ideas are swirling in his mind. He can rub his smugness in her face some other time...

 When Erica walks down the stairs to gather her things, she notices that Sherry is sitting at the island counter eating a bowl of cereal. When she sees Erica, she can’t help but giggle at the young woman’s appearance. Erica’s hair looks like a mess, and from her expression it looks like she’s struggling to stay awake. “Good morning, Miss Erica.” Sherry says before she takes another bite of her cereal.

 Erica looks over at Sherry as she puts her purse over her shoulder. “Good morning.” She smiles sleepily. “You have a good day at school, okay?”

 “Yes ma’am.” Sherry smiles, followed by wishing her babysitter goodbye. “Bye, bye.”

 “Bye, sweetheart.” Erica turns around to see William holding out her payment to her. She takes it from him and turns around towards the door, immediately noticing Wesker’s presence once she does. Ugh …why did she have to see him this morning? Doesn’t he have other places to be? 

 “Captain Wesker.” She addresses, and Wesker looks at her with a smirk. “Miss Slater.” 

 Erica has no idea of what Wesker’s intentions here are, and if she knew she wouldn’t be so willing to walk out the front door. If she knew, she would be perfectly inclined to make sure Wesker doesn’t get what he wants. Unfortunately, she doesn’t, and when she heads out the door to walk towards her car Wesker glances at William. William gives him a nod, and Wesker immediately starts heading up to the top of the stairs.

 Once he’s at the top, he eyes the guest bedroom door. It’s still open, cracked for him to go in and get what he wants. He slowly steps towards the door, anticipation gripping his chest as he flicks on the light. He steps over towards the bed, and when he does he notices the state of the bed. The blankets are all over the place, and the sheets appear to have been kicked to the end of the bed. It makes Wesker furrow his brows. Hm. Is Erica a restless sleeper? The thought makes him turn his attention to the pillows at the head of the bed. If she’s a restless sleeper, that means it’s more likely that he’ll find lingering hair. 

 He leans down towards the bed, squinting his eyes as he examines the pillows. It feels like only a minute passes for him to find a strand of long, white hair, and a surge of excitement goes through him. He pinches it between his gloved fingers, and he lifts it up to stare at it. His stomach rumbles in hunger; hungry for all that this one strand of hair has to offer. He grabs a tissue from the nightstand and puts the hair into the tissue, wrapping it up and placing it into his pocket. He turns around and exits the room, walking down the stairs with urgency. He has to get back to the labs and test this hair as soon as possible. The sooner the results, the sooner Wesker will know who Erica really is. 

 “Call me if you need me, William. I have something that just came up.” He explains before he rushes out the door, closing it behind him to speed to his vehicle. 

 William doesn’t even get a chance to respond as the door closes behind Wesker. He just purses his lips and makes a note to himself to contact him later. He’s positive that Wesker will be more inclined to talk when he’s gotten what he wanted. Right now he has to worry about getting Sherry ready for school, and after that he’s coming back home to catch up on some sleep. He hasn't slept since yesterday morning. He looks over at his daughter who’s slurping up the last bit of her milk, and once she’s done she lets out a sigh of satisfaction. She looks at her dad and lets out a small burp, causing a giggle to follow suit. 

 A grin spreads across William’s lips as his daughter’s giggle hits his ears. “Excuse me.” She laughs. He chuckles, reaching out for her empty bowl and spoon. “Why don’t you go on upstairs and start getting ready for school?”

 She hands her bowl and spoon to him, “Okay.”

 She watches as he rinses them off and places them in the dishwasher before skipping her way up the stairs. She’s ready to get the school day over with so she can come home and spend it with her Mommy and Daddy. Maybe the three of them could do something when she gets home…

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃NEST, beneath Raccoon City.
DATE: ┃ April 10th, 1998.
TIME: ┃07:56:24 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After acquiring what he set out for, Wesker wastes no time sealing himself away into one of the NEST facility’s labs. He immediately begins testing the strand of hair, anticipation growing by the minute as he places it between microscopic slides. When he slides the sample underneath the microscope, he leans down to inspect his new specimen, holding his breath in suspense. His stomach is tightly clenched, and upon looking into the scope it tightens even more at the sight before him. At first glance, the cell structure of the hair is unlike anything Wesker has ever seen; it’s like it’s continuously evolving, constantly ever changing. It’s an accurate representation of an ideal host, ready for its next step in evolution. However, as he adjusts the lens to get a clearer look, he observes how similar the cells look to the T-Virus. The only difference is that there’s something attached to them — as if they’re merged with some other kind of virus. It could be a plethora of viruses for all he knows, all bonded together in a truce for a host. The visual is astounding, and seeing it sends ripples through him. This discovery offers endless possibilities; possibilities that are only possible through Erica. If only he could get a blood sample from her, then he could test it and break down what viruses are currently coursing through her veins. 

 For now, being aware that she’s a carrier of the T-Virus makes alarm bells go off in Wesker’s head. Has she been infected this entire time? How did she become infected? How is she asymptomatic? How is she able to maintain her humanity? Was she one of Umbrella’s past test subjects? Is this that ‘rare condition’ she mentioned a few weeks ago when he confronted her about her work performance? The memory of that conversation causes a smirk to spread across his lips. Erica made her excuse sound pretty convincing — convincing enough for him to believe her then, but now she can’t fool him anymore. He’s finally able to see right through her ruse, and he starts to think about all the things that he spent nights endlessly trying to make sense of: her lack of injuries after being kidnapped and in a car crash, the string of dead officers, and the absence of her supposed medical records. He knew all along there was some kind of explanation for these occurrences, and it’s been right in front of him the entire time.

 His mind then wanders to if he should make Spencer aware of this new information. He knows it’s one of the requirements for his assignment, but the day the old man assigned him he got the impression he was already aware of who Erica was, whether he had heard of her before or met her in some other circumstance. It irks him that Spencer didn’t say anything about it and still hasn’t since then, and so it makes him contemplate keeping this revealing info from the Umbrella founder. He instead considers using it to his advantage and pass it off to Umbrella’s rival company, The ‘Agency,’ otherwise known as The Organization. 

 The company approached him just a few months ago with a pretty beneficial offer; give them Umbrella’s data and they’ll give him a significant pay increase and a superior position at their company. He was skeptical of the offer at first, but over the past few months his skepticism has started to turn into consideration. Umbrella has significantly lacked in providing profitable results, and in Wesker’s eyes, they have lacked in providing purpose. It’s as if all progress being made is for the sake of creating bioweapons, bent on destroying humanity until there’s nothing left. There has to be more to Umbrella’s operation than just creating military technology and bio-organic weapons, and for years Wesker has questioned what the end goal is. Even when he and William were James Marcus’s pupils, he often wondered what the experiments were leading up to. When Spencer offered the two of them the opportunity to work under him, they wasted no time in executing their old teacher for the sake of getting a few steps further. That was a little over a decade ago, and since then Wesker has learned and achieved more than he could have possibly imagined. Now that Erica has appeared, it’s as if he’s riding that high all over again; knowing the lengths he’ll be able to go will be far greater than he ever thought possible. 

 Wesker leans back, and he taps his fingers against the arm of his chair. Should he inform William of his new discovery? Does he let his colleague know his child’s babysitter is a T-Virus carrier? If he is made aware, would he confront Erica? He furrows his brows in thought, and he worries William might jeopardize their feigned obliviousness to Erica’s status. While Wesker greatly respects William, he can’t deny that he’s a neurotic bomb waiting to go off. Just knowing Erica could possibly be a bioweapon sent him into a paranoid frenzy, and Wesker would prefer to avoid exposing what he knows about Erica. He might just keep William in the dark for the time being and inform him when the right time arises. When that time may be, he doesn’t know.

 What he does know is that he was right this entire time; he had an inkling about Erica after her attempted kidnapping, but finding out that his assumptions were in fact correct this whole time gives him the ego boost he needs to fully consider the rival company’s generous offer. The Organization would be just as pleased as him with the information he’s just acquired, and he makes note to get in contact with them later today. For now, he’s going to revel in his achievement and begin making plans to acquire a blood sample from Erica — one way or another.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃ April 14th, 1998.
TIME: ┃5:15:37 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s the end of another shift for Erica, but instead of leaving to go babysit Sherry, she’s on her way home this evening. Oddly, the Birkins have been home the past few days, and she hopes that it doesn’t mean anything sinister. ‘No, no, you’re just overthinking again.’ She mentally tells herself. She starts to wonder what she might do with her free time; she’s had a lot lifted off of her shoulders in the past week, and she feels like she can finally relax for a change. Umbrella has been leaving her alone, there haven’t been any B.O.W. threats or sightings, and Jill and Chris both finally know what’s going on — the latter bringing her the most relief. She’s glad she’s gotten them up to speed now, though it would have been better to do it sooner rather than later. She quickly brushes off the sentiment, reminding herself that it’s in the past now, and she’s moving forward. Recently, the three of them have been talking about telling Barry what’s going on next, and knowing Jill and Chris are close enough with Barry to arrange that without raising any suspicions, she’s happy to go home and enjoy herself.

 Jill spots Erica in the lobby as she’s making her way towards the punch clock, and she quickly rushes over to her. She has something important to ask Erica, and she needs to get an answer pronto. If she doesn’t, there’s no way she’ll be able to put in an order for a cake in time — a cake meant for Erica. She wants to get one of Raccoon’s best bakeries to make said cake, but she needs to figure out what kind of cake Erica actually likes before that can happen.  The bakery she’s wanting to order from in particular has a one week advance requirement for ordering, so Jill is on a time limit. 

 Secretly, several of the S.T.A.R.S. members have been planning a surprise birthday party for Erica. Although Jill is aware Erica’s birthday isn’t actually until next week, she convinced the others to plan it on the weekend before so her friend can enjoy her party. Barry happily agreed to host the party at his home, while Forest, Joseph, and Richard opted to get snacks. Brad offered to get drinks, Jill is supposed to order the cake, and Chris is in charge of picking out a card. The rest of the group either had plans already established or couldn’t find the time. Now all that leaves is picking out a present — something Jill quickly makes note of for later as Erica turns around. She greets Jill with a smile, “Hey, Jill. What’s up?”

 Jill offers one in return, “Nothing much. I just have to get your opinion on something.” 

 “Oh, okay.” Erica replies, “What is it?”

 “One of my cousins’ birthdays is tomorrow, and I need to know what kind of cake I should make. Do you have any recommendations you think she’d like?” Jill explains, hoping her excuse is believable enough for the other woman to answer without being suspicious. Erica nods enthusiastically, thinking nothing of the harmless inquiry. “Of course.” She says. “Personally, I don’t think you can go wrong with chocolate cake. Any kind of icing can work with it, but since you asked me I’d say a German chocolate cake — I’m a huge fan of coconut.”

 Jill takes in this information, and if she’s being honest she didn’t expect the answer from Erica. Everybody loves chocolate, of course, but it’s not very often Jill hears someone say they like coconut. Either way, she’s gleeful to hear the response, now eager to speed off and make a phone call or two. She gives a wide grin. “Okay, thanks. I’ll see you later!” 

 Before Erica can say anything else Jill is already making her way up to the second floor, quickly slipping through a door and out of Erica’s sight. Erica can’t help but chuckle to herself. “I wonder what that was about.” She murmurs, and once the confusion of the interaction dissipates she starts heading in the direction of the employee garage.

 She’s ready to get home and get into some comfy pajamas.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃███.
PLACE: ┃█ ███, ████.
TIME: ┃█:██:██ ██.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 BOOM!

 Erica gasps as she suddenly shoots awake from the sound of what could only be an explosion, and her eyes widen as she frantically takes in her surroundings. Raccoon City is in complete disrepair; cars are aflame or crashed into each other, bloody and shattered windows decorate the buildings, and the stench of decay is heavy in the air. Not only that, but the city is infested with the walking dead, and her heart drops as she stares in utter horror. What is going on? This can’t be real — this hasn’t happened yet! Where is everybody? Where are Chris and Jill? Her mind is racing trying to make sense of things, but she pulls herself from her thoughts when she notices a couple of walking corpses make their way towards her. She starts scrambling to her feet, and when she turns to run she’s met face to face with hoards of zombies. Groans of death slew from their rotting maws, and she turns around towards the opposite direction. There are now even more behind her, slowly closing in on her as they start to reach out for her. It feels like everything is moving so fast that she doesn’t have time to react when one grabs hold of her arm, and she screams in response. It doesn’t try to bite her; merely screeching at her, keeping its hold on her as more begin to grab onto parts of her body. 

 “Get off of me!” She yells, but it’s no use. Many more begin to take hold of her, digging their nails into her skin. Their groans and grunts fill her ears, and her eyes start to water as she tries to fight them off. Nothing works — and they continue to crowd themselves over her. A shrill scream emits from her lips, significantly louder than her previous one. The frequency of her scream cracks the asphalt beneath her body, causing pieces of the broken road to stab into her back and sides. She sobs as she’s overcome by the pile of bodies growing on top of her by the second, combined with the pain of being injured by the ground beneath her. No! She can’t die like this! There has to be something she can do. She's a bioweapon for Christ's sake! Can’t she turn into her Tyrant form and obliterate these corpses? Her body seems to have read her frantic mind and, within what feels like an instant, Erica’s body changes into her Tyrant form. It takes her by surprise at how quickly she was able to transform, but she brushes it off to focus on what's happening around her. She grits her sharp teeth, immediately slashing her long claws and tail at any zombie she can reach. She manages to get a multitude of them off of her before they manage to get a grip on her arms again. She realizes that it’s no use; there too many of them, and even if she fights all of them off they’re just going to get back up again and keep coming. 

 Her body becomes hot with worry, anxious as to what’s going to happen to her. Is she going to die? Is this how she meets her end? Is she going to end up like these other soulless bodies? The thought makes her keep trying to fight them off, hoping that if she just keeps going she can survive this. She can make it out of here. She can do this! “ JuSt DiE aLrEaDy! ” She screeches with pure rage, struggling as her arms and legs are now weighed down by the immense pressure of bodies. Her screams fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the zombies overpowering her. She continues to struggle before she suddenly stops, and her body arches forward. A wail that could only be described as demonic and loud rumbled through her chest, piercing the thick, gross air coating Racoon City. Adrenaline strangles her, but the hand around her throat is replaced by that of fear once the ground beneath her rumbles another time. However, this time it's bigger — a lot bigger.

 In a flash, bursts of flames envelop the massive pile of zombies; their individual bodies swelling up and combusting into balls of fire upon Erica’s command. Burned flesh drips onto her skin, and she cries out in pain as the flames caress her body. Her chest tightens, and like the zombies it appears a raging fire grips her insides, too. Her joints start to sting, inflamed by whatever sudden pain has crashed into her. The taste of blood instantly coats the inside of her mouth, filling her throat enough for her to feel like she's choking. Her vision becomes red and blurry when what she believes to be blood starts flooding from her eyes. She gasps, squeezing her eyes shut as they burn from the deep red liquid. Her nostrils feel like they're being ignited as she breathes in the toxic fumes exploding around her. She feels something drip from her nose — whether it be blood or snot, she doesn’t care — and she starts coughing. Splatters of red project out of her mouth, and she moans in agony. She falls victim to her pain, barely able to keep her eyes open as blood spills into her corneas. 

 She forces her eyes open long enough to witness the intense light of the flames growing larger and larger, brighter and brighter. The bright burn of the light makes Erica squeeze her eyes tightly shut with whatever strength she has left. It becomes so large that it surrounds the area around the monstrous inferno, and it begins taking everything with it. The blaze changes into a firestorm, spreading far and wide across Raccoon City’s limits. The ball of fire covers Raccoon City as a whole, and the burning flame changes into a bleaching white. An echoing boom resonates through the city, and it’s the last thing Erica hears before it’s replaced by the sound of rumbling. The rumbling gets louder and louder until it reaches her, only to be followed by a deafening ringing. 

 The intense tone pierces her ear drums, continuing to ring for what feels like an eternity. When the ringing starts to dissipate, she can make out crackling flames, then shifting rocks, and finally a group of muffled voices. Erica can’t make out what the voices are saying, and she doesn’t recognize any of them. She tries to open her eyes to take a look, but something is keeping them sealed shut. She attempts to move her body, too, but she’s seemingly paralyzed. She can’t move, and it makes her start to panic. What just happened? Where is she? What’s going on? All she can see is the darkness of her eyelids, and she opens her mouth to scream for help. Nothing comes out but silence; the ghost of a scream just barely making it out from her wind pipes. 

 She tries to scream again, but this time she sits up in her bed to scream — the intense sound echoing through her bedroom as she looks around. She pants from the adrenaline, sweat beading down her forehead as she glances over to her alarm clock. The clock is blank, and she furrows her brows in confusion as she catches her breath. Did she accidentally unplug it? She reaches towards her lamp to turn it on and see if she might have done so, but it doesn’t light up her room like it usually does. That's weird... She purses her lips, pulling the covers off of her to walk over towards the bathroom. She flicks the light switch upwards, but the light in the bathroom doesn’t come on.

 Erica sighs in irritation, her focus now shifted to the obvious outage in her apartment. “Well, that’s just great.” She murmurs to herself. “I’m gonna have to call the front desk in the morning.” She flicks the light switch back down, walking out of the bathroom and over to her bed. Just as she’s about to slip back under the covers, however, her body immediately comes to a halt. Her stomach is gripped by a deep sinking feeling, and she feels her throat begin to swell with anxiety. If she knows any better, she knows something ominous usually comes along with this dreadful feeling. She swallows thickly, and it's as if her intuition has taken hold of her. Something is wrong .

 She shifts her gaze to the window, eyeing the world outside of her bedroom. She walks over to the window and unlocks it, sliding it upwards and sticking her head outside. Before she has time to react, monstrous shrieks and cries fill her ears. EEErrrIIIcccAAA! It’s the sound of her bio weapon brethren, howling in nightmarish harmony. Somewhere out there they’re calling out to her, begging for her to join them in their path of future destruction. She stumbles backwards, covering her ears in hopes to protect her ear drums from the awful sounds. It doesn’t work, unfortunately, and they continue to ravage her ears with their screams. Her eyes prickle with tears; pain gripping her brain as the intense frequencies give her a migraine. 

 It comes to an end as a tear drips down her cheek, and after a minute or two passes she uncovers her ears. Once she recovers from the assault on her ear drums, she shuts the window and locks it back. She bites her lip, continuing to stare out the now closed window for a few moments before she steps over to her bed and climbs under the covers. She lays flat on her back, and she stares blankly up at the ceiling. 

 What did her nightmare mean? Does it mean Raccoon City is going to be destroyed no matter what she does? Does it mean that coming here to prevent it from happening was all for nothing? What about those awful screams? Are there still B.O.Ws lurking around the Arklay Mountains somewhere? Has she not been accomplishing anything ? The barrage of questions makes her once intense migraine return, and she furrows her brows in discomfort. Maybe she should worry about theorizing what’s going on tomorrow when she’s not so tired — or better yet, she should form a plan on how to prevent her nightmare from actually happening. After all, she’s the only one who knows of the future that might befall Raccoon City. Hopefully, she can change its future.  She turns over on her side, and she frowns as she peers into the darkness of her apartment. 

 An idea crosses her mind; an idea that she isn’t so sure she’s opposed to. It’s not ideal, but if she has to confront Wesker or William in order to accomplish that, she’ll do what it takes. The lives of many far out value the life of one, and she’s willing to make a sacrifice to save the people she cares about; whether they get their comeuppance later or not. She takes a deep breath before she relaxes into her mattress, and she closes her eyes. 

 Her mind continues to wonder about what’s just transpired but eventually her hyperactive thoughts put her tired body to sleep, and silence takes over the quaint and dark apartment.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃ April 18th, 1998.
TIME: ┃9:12:59 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s the morning after Erica’s terrible nightmare, and she’s just now waking up to the sun shining brightly through the crack of her bedroom window’s curtains. More light floods in from the open door of her living room, making her squint her eyes at the brightness. ‘Ugh. What time is it?’ She wonders. She sits up and rubs her eyes, glancing over to her alarm clock to check and see if the power has come back on. Unfortunately, it hasn’t, and she huffs. Great. She’s going to have to shower with no power, but she can work around that. She just hopes she still has running water — she’s in desperate need of a refreshing wash. She starts climbing out of her bed, but before she can make a break for the bathroom the phone in the kitchen starts to ring. The sound makes her jump, and she immediately wonders who’s calling. It feels like her phone has been ringing a lot lately, but she shrugs it off as she trudges over towards the screaming phone. The incessant rings pierce her ears, and it makes her head sting, dredging up her migraine from last night. The cord bounces as she snatches the phone off the hook, and she presses it to her ear.

 “Hello?” She answers, trying not to let the slight annoyance show in her voice.

 “Hello, Miss Slater. This is Mr. Pines.” The response from the other line makes her ponder for a bit. Mr. Pines … oh, right! Her landlord; someone she rarely — if ever — speaks to. What could he want? She’s not behind on rent is she? No, she’s pretty positive she’s been paying on time. “Good morning, Mr. Pines. What can I do for you?” She sweetly asks.

 “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that you don’t have any power or any water, and I regret to inform you that you more than likely won’t have any until tomorrow morning.” Pines explains, and Erica frowns. Well that’s just great. Now she doesn’t have any water either? Fuck . “Oh, okay.” She says, but his explanation for calling makes her think. Is she not the only one without power? Does that mean the entire building is without power? Was there a broken power line somewhere that caused the building’s power to go out? The next thing that she hears from the other line of the phone, however, turns her theories into an entirely different direction. 

 “Yeah. If you hear anything or see anyone on your floor throughout the day, it’s just a couple of electricians. The outage seems to have originated from your floor level, so they’re up there looking for the cause.”

 Erica clenches her teeth; her stomach tightening at his words. Did she just hear that right? Did he just say it originated from her floor? Her mind gets the better of her, and she can’t help but to wonder if her nightmare from last night might have had anything to do with it. What about the howls of the B.O.W.s in the distance? Why did they cry out for her around the time her power went out? Was it in response to the power outage? Her thoughts wander, and her stomach swirls with nausea. She isn’t the reason for the building going out — is she? No, no; that’s just crazy talk. Her dreams aren’t powerful enough to do something like that. At least, not that she’s aware of. She brushes off the line of thought before speaking up. “Alrighty, then. Thank you for letting me know.” She says.

 “You’re welcome. Have a nice day, Miss Slater.” Mr. Pine spits out, hanging up on her before she has the chance to say goodbye. When she hears the dial tone, she places the phone back on the hook. She stands in silence for a moment, leaning against her kitchen counter. She reaches up to rub the remaining sleep out of her eyes, blinking them a few times as they adjust to the morning sunlight illuminating her apartment. As if on cue the sound of drilling echoes against her apartment walls, and she purses her lips in irritation. Oh, that’s just wonderful; she has no power, no water, and she gets the pleasure of listening to someone drill into the wall for several hours. She sighs, annoyed at the aggravating noise as she starts to head back towards her bedroom. 

 KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

 Erica’s brows furrow as the sound of knocking reaches her ears, and her body turns back around to face towards the front door. Who in the world could that be? It’s not one of those electricians is it? After stepping over to her apartment door, she peers through the hole, eyeing a seemingly anxious Jill. The antsy woman reaches up to knock again, but she stops as Erica unlocks and opens the door with a look of confusion. Jill can see the sleepiness still lingering on her features, but she’s glad to see that the woman is up regardless. “Hey, Jill.” Erica greets with a yawn, “What’s up?”

 Jill is quick to smile. “Hey!” She chirps. “Do you have anything planned for today?”

 Erica shakes her head. “No, actually, I don’t. Why do you ask?”

 “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to get together and have a girls’ day.” Jill offers, and Erica can’t help but frown. Dammit . That’s just her luck, isn’t it? “Oh, Jill, I would love to but I need a shower and I just got a call from Mr. Pines who said we won’t have any water or power until tomorrow morning.”

 “That’s okay! If you want, you and I could just get ready at Chris and Forest’s apartment. I already planned on going over there to take a shower myself.” Jill suggests, and the suggestion makes Erica consider. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal; if Jill was already planning on heading over there, she’s sure Chris and Forest won’t mind. She decides to relent, craving the feel of hot water raining down on her body. A hot shower would take her mind off of what happened last night — and at this point it doesn’t really matter where she takes one. She just wants to bathe. She gives the brunette a small smile after considering. “Sure.” She replies, and Jill grins. “Awesome. Meet me down in the lobby in five?”

 “As long as you’re the one driving.” Erica teases, and Jill nods enthusiastically. “Of course.” She agrees, turning to head down the stairwell. “Alright. I’ll see ya.” She pauses, “Bring some makeup and some nice clothes with you.”

 “Okay.” Erica laughs, making note of her request. She’s curious as to why Jill wants her to bring those things, but she doesn’t think anything of it as the sound of drilling hits her ears again. It doesn’t stop, so she sheepishly waves goodbye before she closes the door. She immediately heads off towards her bedroom to start packing some clothes, makeup, and other necessary toiletries. 

 Jill is on her way down a few floors to her own apartment, giddy as she descends down each flight of stairs. ‘Everything is going according to plan.’ She thinks, happy that Erica was conveniently free; she isn’t sure what her plan would’ve been for the surprise party if she hadn’t been available. Jill knows it’s just a simple surprise party, but it also happens to be a ruse for the conversation she and Chris plan on having with Barry. Erica will be involved — of course —  but in order to get Erica, Chris, Jill, and Barry all in the same place without Wesker breathing down their necks, they’d have to do something inconspicuous; something like a party. They thought that this would be the only way to let the man know of Umbrella’s evil doings without making the corporation suspicious of their meeting. 

 The plan came about after Chris found out about all of Umbrella’s evil convoluted nonsense, and he was quick to advise Jill and Erica that they needed to let Barry know, too. Barry is and has been a close family friend to Chris for a long time, and if Barry were to be aware of what’s going on he would be of great help to them. Jill and Chris have seen what Erica has been through and what kind of information she had to keep to herself for God knows how long, and with her permission they’ll be able to show and tell Barry the same. Once he sees the proof — because he’d never believe them without it — he’ll be able to pull some connections with the other S.T.A.R.S. branches, and together they’ll be able to cover more ground. Umbrella is an international company, so it’s not just Raccoon City they have control over; they more than likely have other facilities committing the same heinous crimes. The idea of Umbrella inhabiting more than one area, experimenting on and killing innocent people makes Jill shudder in disgust, but she shrugs it off to focus on her task at hand. 

 This party isn’t just about exposing an evil corporation; it’s also about Erica. She deserves some reassurance after all she’s endured from the hands of Umbrella, and what better way to do that than to throw a surprise party? She and Chris want this party to show Erica that they don’t view her any differently just because of what happened to her. None of it was her fault, and despite having her DNA tampered with they want to make her still feel human. She might have lied to them and kept secrets from them, but she just wanted to protect them from knowing what she is and where she’s from. She was scared, and Jill can understand that. Although she feels weird to know that there are memories and a past associated with Erica she didn’t know she even had, it still doesn’t change how she feels about her. She’s not once given Jill a reason to believe she’s trying to deceive her out of malicious intent.

 Hell, when she confronted Erica about what she read, she crumbled in an instant. It didn’t feel like she was faking it; it felt like genuine emotion — genuine fear that Jill found out and knew what she was. Reading those data entries made her uneasy for sure, but for some reason Jill doesn’t believe that those actions Erica committed were of her own choices. It had to have been the viruses making her do it — making her feel like a monster as she said. The words made Jill’s heart hurt when they spilled from Erica’s lips that day, because she’s always proven she’s nothing of the sort. She’s incredibly kind, helpful, creative, and a lot smarter than she lets on. She didn’t deserve what happened to her, and Jill believes there’s got to be something she and Chris can do for her. Maybe when they get the chance, they can try to find a cure for Erica. If there is one .

 ‘Yeah…that’s what we’ll do. We’ll find a cure.’ She muses to herself before reaching into her closet to grab something to wear to the party.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Chris and Forest’s Apartment.
TIME: ┃9:32:41 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 The television is on the MTV channel at full blast, blaring 80s and 90s hits as Chris and Forest go about their morning routine. Forest is chilling on the sofa jamming to the tunes — face buried in a bowl of cereal — while Chris is in the bathroom currently brushing his teeth. He spits out the remaining toothpaste once he’s done, and he finishes up with a refreshing mouthwash before the faint sound of knocking hits his ear drums. Luckily for whoever is at the door they conveniently knocked during a commercial intermission, and had the channel resumed and the next song played he wouldn’t have heard a thing. He swashes around the mouthwash before sputtering it into the sink, motioning over to a towel to wipe his mouth dry. He then exits the bathroom and spots Forest on the couch, who’s completely unaware of the world around him. Why didn’t Forest answer the door? Did he not hear the knocking? Chris shakes his head at his friend’s obliviousness and steps over to the door, and to his surprise he sees Jill and Erica standing there. Wait, what is Erica doing here? He knew he was expecting Jill to come over, but he wasn’t made aware that Erica would be tagging along with her. Does she not have any power or water, too? It’s not like he minds or anything, but — 

 He shrugs it off and welcomes them with a smile. “Hey, guys.”

 “Heyyy, Chrisss.” Jill grins, drawing out her words. Oh, boy. Chris knows what that tone of voice means; it means Jill wants something. What that may be is pretty obvious to him, but he folds his arms with a smirk to let his friend explain herself. “I know you said it was cool for me to shower here, but is it cool that Erica does, too?” She asks, but she doesn’t allow Chris any time to answer. In fact , she answers for him. “Yes? Okay, great.” She promptly walks past him through what little room she can slide through, giving Forest a wave and heading in the direction of the bathroom. He waves back with a spoon still in his hand and a mouthful of cereal stuffed into his mouth.

 Chris turns towards Erica, and he observes her appearance. It looks like she just woke up; her hair is a little messy, she’s in her pajamas, and when he looks down at her shoes he notices that she’s also wearing a pair of house slippers. It makes the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement. Cute . 

 Erica notices that small twitch, and she tries to hide a small smile as she timidly looks to the floor. “Hi.”

 “Hey.” Chris replies, watching as her gaze falls to the floor. She can feel her face start to get hot, and she grips the straps of her bag. 

 Even though everything is fine between them now, Erica can’t help but feel nervous every time she’s around Chris. She knows he doesn’t view her as a monster, but there’s a part of her that’s still hesitant to get close. She doesn’t have her hunger under full control yet, and she doesn’t want to risk exposing him to such a danger. It doesn’t help that Chris’s scent drives her senses crazy; viruses urging her to go forward and just eat him up. She isn’t entirely sure if that means she’s hungry for his meat or hungry for his meat , and not being able to discern the two is another good reason to keep a safe distance. She immediately pushes the inappropriate thought to the back of her mind before it can fester. ‘Right now you’re worried about taking a shower. Focus.’ She mentally scolds herself before speaking up. “I know Jill just asked you,” She awkwardly laughs, “but is it okay if I take a shower and get ready here? My whole building won’t have any power or water until tomorrow morning.” She explains, and Chris doesn’t need a reason from her in order for him to say yes. He doesn’t mind at all, and considering today is supposed to be Erica’s day he has no qualms with fulfilling whatever she asks for.

 He opens the door wider to allow her through, “Of course. I don’t mind.” He replies, and she looks up at him with a smile. “Thank you.” She says, walking inside. When she steps in through the doorway Chris takes notice of her large bag and wonders what she’s packed. All she’s doing is taking a shower and getting ready; what in the world does she need to get ready with that fills up that bag? He shakes it off, believing it’s probably for the best that he doesn’t ask. ‘ Girls .’ He surmises, closing the door behind her. 

 Erica shoots a wave towards Forest as she makes a spot in one of the recliners, placing her bag on the floor at her feet. The apartment is slightly disheveled; a couple of pizza boxes and beer bottles here and there, but nothing too alarming. The television is still carrying on, but as Forest finishes his bowl of cereal with a slurp he turns it down to change the channel to the local news or whatever catches his interest. Erica doesn’t really care what he puts on — she’s just ready to get in the shower and get clean. She’s also ready to have a girls’ day with Jill; it’s been a while since they’ve gotten together for something aside from discussing Umbrella. With her birthday coming up, she may or may not be even more excited at the prospect of possibly eating out at Emmy’s. She’s been craving some of their burgers and a side of perfectly seasoned fries, and for her birthday this year that’s all she’s wishing for. Well, that’s not the only thing she’s wishing for, but it’s the only thing she’s realistically wishing for. Chris pulls her from her rambling thoughts when he walks into the kitchen.

 “Hey, Erica, do you want anything to drink?”

 Erica turns around, “Sure. What do you have?”

 “Beer, soda, water.” Chris lists, and she doesn’t waste any time giving him a response. “You can give me whatever soda you have.” She says, and he affirms her answer. “Gotcha.” 

 He grabs an orange Fanta from the fridge and closes it behind himself, walking in her direction to hand the can to her. She smiles when he gives it to her, “Thank you.”

 “Of course.” He grins.

 “Alright, alright, I’ll go somewhere else.” Forest teases as he puts his bowl in the sink. He starts heading towards his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He has his own TV, anyway.

 Chris and Erica look at each other, and she can’t help but giggle. He laughs, too, and he shakes his head at his roommate’s words as he sits on the couch opposite to her. She opens and takes a sip of her soda, and he grabs the remote from beside him to change the channel. The only sounds that fill the apartment aside from the ones that the city chimes in are that of the muffled, rushing water of the shower and the television. That’s what the two of them listen to for a while before Chris decides to break the silence, “So, what do you and Jill plan on doing today?” He questions.

 He knows he doesn’t need to ask her this, already aware of what she’s going to do later today. He, Jill, and Barry all planned to have the party at three o’clock, but what Jill plans on doing to distract Erica until then he has no idea of. 

 Erica glances over to him, not giving her answer any thought. “We’ll probably go to a few stores and get something to eat. I hope we get to eat at Emmy’s. I’m hankering for a classic burger with everything on it. They’re so good…” She elaborates, and Chris nods. He agrees with her about Emmy’s burgers — they’re definitely delicious — but he also makes sure to remind himself to tell Jill of this when she gets out of the shower. He gives it some thought before another option comes to mind. Ooorrr… He could make note of it for later and take Erica there himself. He’s been munching for an Emmy’s burger himself, and if he’s being honest with himself he just wants to have some alone time with her. He wants to talk about something other than Umbrella, and maybe with everything cleared up between the two of them he can have a chance to talk to Erica about how he feels. Maybe this time she won’t give him any more excuses and be honest with him about how she feels as well.

 “Would you want to go together sometime?” He asks, the inquiry cutting through the quiet air between them. His impulses get the better of him, and doubt immediately begins to set in his mind. What if she says no? What if she tells him she still just wants to be friends? What if —

 “I’m sure I can hold off my cravings for a little while. What day are you thinking of going?” Erica responds. 

 When Chris looks at her to make sure he just heard those words come out of her mouth, she smiles cheekily. She might just be digging a hole for herself, putting him in danger by accepting his offer; or she might be filling up a long dug hole, giving the both of them closure about how they feel. She doesn’t know, but she feels a sense of liberation when she accepts. She can finally have some alone time with Chris and tell how she feels — properly — without any interruptions this time. At least, for now. She focuses her attention on what Chris has to say to her response, and he’s happy to hear her say yes. He tries not to fumble over his words as he tells her what day, hopeful he won’t accidentally let it slip that he knows it’s her birthday. “How about this coming up Wednesday?”

 Erica feels her heart start to race in excitement and fascination at the coincidence, and she starts to question why he said that specific day. There’s no way he knows, right? No, she doesn’t remember saying anything to anyone about when her birthday is. So does he secretly know Wednesday is her birthday? She tries to remember if she might have said it in passing and forgot, but she just doesn’t recall telling him. She finds it funny that he just so happened to pick that day, but she decides to brush it off. It probably really is just a coincidence but a coincidence that makes her slightly giddy. She actually just so happens to be off on her birthday, so does that mean she gets to spend her birthday with Chris? She’s ecstatic at the idea of it, but she calms herself down before she gets too carried away. She doesn’t want to seem too eager. 

 “Sure! That day works for me.” She smiles wide, and she hopes it doesn’t look too cheesy. Her smile makes Chris’s stomach flutter, admiring her goofy smile from the short distance they shared. It’s one of the many, many reasons he’s asking her to Emmy’s in the first place, and he tries to contain his eagerness after it registers that she accepted. Since it is her birthday, maybe he could take her to an ice cream shop, the movies, or even to the skating rink. If she wants to, that is; he doesn’t want to get too far ahead of himself. That conversation can come up before or on the day of, and as he starts to carry on the conversation the two of them are having now they’re interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open.

 Jill steps out with a towel draped around her shoulders; her hair still wet and dripping water. She feels absolutely refreshed, and as she pulls the towel over her head to dry her hair some more she calls over to Erica. “Okay, Erica, the bathroom is all yours.” She says before rubbing the towel thoroughly over her head. She rubs until her hair is no longer dripping, glancing up after she pulls the towel off. “I would probably wait a few minutes for the hot water to heat back up, though.”

 Erica gives a teasing grin. “Oh, how generous of you to leave me some hot water.” A laugh slips past her lips, and Jill winks at her. “Don’t mention it.” She jokes back, and Erica gets up from her seat to head towards the bathroom. She grabs her bag from the floor and places her soda on the kitchen counter before walking over and closing herself into the mid sized bathroom.

 ‘Alright, time to shower.’ She thinks.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City, Missouri.
DATE: ┃ April 18th, 1998.
TIME: ┃2:50:08 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “Jill? Where are we going?”

 Confusion riddles Erica’s features as the other woman continues driving, ignoring her question and focusing on wherever she’s decided their new destination is. City landscapes gradually turn to quaint neighborhoods as the ghostly blonde purses her lips, trying to figure out where they might be headed next. The two of them have already been to several stores today, following it up with a quick stop at a charming little cafe to grab a small bite to eat. They satisfied their shopping desires with Erica purchasing herself a new pair of shoes, a couple of keychains, and some clothes, while Jill only got herself a new button up shirt for work. It didn’t strike Erica as odd at first, but once it got close to two o’clock Jill was quick to usher her to the car. She became pushy and urgent, insisting that she had something to do and that she wanted to get it done before it was too late. She added that Erica could sit and wait in the car if she wanted to; something Erica had no mind doing if it was just a simple get in get out situation. After setting off to fulfill Jill’s supposed errand, they made their way out of the city and to one of the many suburbs lining the outer rim of Raccoon. 

 Pulling into the entrance of a private community and traveling down a valley of suburban house duplicates, Erica stares out the window. She observes her surroundings, and she quickly surmises that Jill must be doing something at Barry’s house. She, to her own surprise, remembers the way to his home considering all the suburban houses in Raccoon look the same. For what they’re going to his place for she doesn’t know, but she isn’t given anymore time to theorize about it when the two of them pull into the driveway of the Burton residence. Jill unbuckles her seatbelt, glancing at Erica before she reaches over to open the door.

 “Alright. I’m just gonna be in for a minute or two. If I’m longer than five, just come in and get me, okay?” She says, and Erica nods. That seems simple enough. “Okay.” She agrees.

 Jill smiles as she gets out of the car; giddy as she closes the door behind her and starts heading towards the front door of the suburban home. As soon as she’s up the short porch steps, she reaches for the doorbell so she can be let in. A few seconds pass before the door opens and Barry greets her with a grin. 

 “Right on time.” He muses, promptly letting her in as soon as he sees that it’s her. He glances towards her parked vehicle in the driveway, noticing Erica sitting in the passenger seat. “What did you tell her?” He asks, closing the door behind Jill as she steps inside.

 “I told her I wouldn’t be long. Any longer than five she comes in to get me.” She recounts, and she walks into the living room to take her place with everyone else. Joseph, Chris, and Forest are sitting on the couch, Brad, Richard, and Richard’s girlfriend Bridgett are in the far left corner, Enrico, his wife, and his daughter are in the far right corner, and Barry, his wife, and his daughters are gathering somewhere in the middle. Even Claire was able to make an appearance for the party, currently hiding behind Jill. Jill stands at the edge of the room, peering out from the doorway to keep a lookout for Erica. Five minutes isn’t a long time, and so it won’t be long before Erica comes inside to come looking for her when they all jump out to surprise her. 

 Meanwhile, Erica is still sitting in the car, waiting patiently for Jill to come back to the car after doing whatever it is she needs to do. It’s weird that she didn’t mention to Erica what that exactly was, but she doesn’t feel nosy enough to ask. She leans her head back against the headrest and listens to the music quietly playing on the radio. The whole song plays before she lifts her head up to glance at the front door. Jill isn’t back yet. Hmm… She shifts in her seat and watches the door for a couple of minutes. Still, nothing. 

 A sigh slips past her lips as she reaches to unbuckle her seatbelt. Looks like she’s going to have to go in and get Jill after all. Did she get caught up in conversation? She turns the car off and takes out the keys before she opens the car door and steps out of the vehicle. She closes it, the hinges creaking as she slams it closed. Her eyes scan the area around her before she walks over towards the small steps leading up to the porch. She approaches the door, and when she eyes the doorbell button next to the door she presses it. She can hear the doorbell going off from inside the house, but she doesn’t hear anything else. It’s completely quiet, and she raises a brow. That’s… weird . She waits around for a few moments, believing maybe they’re busy and they can’t get to the door right now. She continues to wait until her impatience gets the better of her, prompting her to press the button a second time.

 Again, nothing. 

 Anxiety trickles down Erica’s neck, and she wonders what’s going on. Is everything okay? Should she go inside? She reaches for the door handle, but she stops herself. ‘No, that’s super rude.’ She scolds herself, ‘You wouldn’t want anyone going into your home, would you?’ 

 She clenches her hand into a fist before lowering it to her side, anxiously wondering what she should do. She raises her hands to shield her eyes and inches her face closer to the crystalized glass on the front door. She can’t see anything, but she can see that none of the lights are on. There’s no sign of movement, and she can’t hear anything. She swallows thickly, and her paranoid thoughts start to get the better of her. 

 What happened to Jill and Barry? She knows she saw him let her in just only minutes ago, so what’s going on? As she examines the area, she realizes that Jill’s car is the only one in the driveway. Come to think of it, she didn’t see any of the Burtons’ cars in the driveway when they arrived, either. Where is everyone? She immediately feels her stomach drop, worried that maybe something terrible is going on inside and she just doesn’t know it. Maybe Umbrella got to them, and now they’re inside holding everyone hostage in order to trap her or get some kind of sick revenge. Her hands twitch; her mind struggling with what she should do. Her instincts are telling her to just go inside, but her rationality is trying to tell her to remain calm and wait. 

 Oh, to hell with it .

 Her hands wrap around the door handle, twisting and pushing until the door cracks open. She peers her head in, and it appears all of the lights in the house are off. She doesn’t hear anyone, but when she inhales she can definitely smell people. A large group of people. She can hear them, too — soft whispers and quiet giggles. She can hear their heart beats, too, echoing a rhythm of beating in her ear drums. “Hello?” She calls out, opening the door wider so she can enter. There’s no response, and after closing the door behind herself she proceeds further into the house. The kitchen doorway is the first door to her right, and when she gazes into the room she sees that no one is there. Her heart is pounding in her ears with each passing second, tension growing as she heads down the hallway. The sound of beating hearts combined with the scent of multiple people grows stronger after every step she takes, and she’s just about to set foot into the living room when she’s suddenly met by the many faces of people she’s come to know in Raccoon City.

 “ SURPRISE!!! ”

 The initial shout takes her aback, and her eyes widen. She recounts everyone in the room — Jill, Claire, Joseph, Chris, Forest, Brad, Richard, Bridgett, Enrico, Barry, and the latter two’s respective families. After recovering from the sudden surprise, a smile immediately spreads across Erica’s lips. “What’s going on here?” She laughs.

 “It’s a surprise birthday party!” Jill exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. Everyone’s faces share the same ecstatic smiles, and the statement makes Erica’s heart melt. ‘Really? A surprise birthday party just for me?’ Her eyes start to water, overcome with joy from the sheer thoughtfulness of it all. She’s never had anyone throw a surprise party for her before, and it takes a lot of will power inside of her to not cry from the overwhelming emotions rising in her chest. She pulls Jill in for a happy embrace, and when she pulls away she beams at the other. “I knew something was going on, but I didn’t think it was going to be this!” She giggles, glancing around the room. She eyes Chris who stands from his spot on the couch, and when he comes closer she motions towards him for a hug. He leans down, wrapping his arms around her waist as hers slink around his torso. Her stomach flutters at feeling his body close to hers, and likewise.

 “Did you help plan this, too?” She questions as they start pulling away, and he grins cheesily. “I may have helped.” He chuckles. Erica smiles up at him, and her heart starts to beat fast as she stares into his eyes. Barry interrupts the chemistry starting to brew between them to approach her. His tall, burly figure towers over her, but he appears just as jovial as everyone else. “I hope you’re ready for some cake, because we all sure are.” He heartily cackles, and he begins gesturing for everyone to follow him into the kitchen. 

 “You guys got me a cake, too?” She asks, and she’s honestly in disbelief. She wonders if she might as well just cry already, flattered that all these people went through all of this for her. She didn’t realize just how much the S.T.A.R.S. members and even their families care about her, and as the group of people shift from the living room to the kitchen she can’t help but let her teary eyes and stupid smile stay there. She looks at all of their faces adorned with happiness, and in that moment she feels like this is where she belongs. This is where she should be; surrounded by all of her friends and loved ones…

 Claire breaks her from her daze, putting a hand on her shoulder as she too comes into the kitchen. “Just wait until you see the presents we got you.” She smirks, and Erica stares at her in disbelief until the cake comes out. Kathy Burton places it on the kitchen island in front of her, and she’s flabbergasted beyond recognition. It’s a chocolate german cake with candles numbered two and four, ready to be lit and blown out. She turns to Jill who has a polaroid camera, prepared to shoot the moment in which she blows out the candles. The feelings inside of her are hard to describe with just one word; she’s feeling joyful, appreciated, and most of all she feels a sense of normalcy. It’s like all of her worries are gone, replaced by not a care in the world. That feeling continues as Chris reaches out to light the candles with his lighter. Their eyes meet as he does so, breaking off when everyone begins singing the traditional melody of a birthday party.

 “ Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you… ”

 Erica drowns out the song to stare into the flames of her candles — a smile permanently etched into her features. She’s just so grateful everyone gathered here today to celebrate her birthday, regardless if it’s not the actual day of. She’s flattered that she’s made such an impact in everyone’s lives that they felt she deserved to have a surprise party. She honestly doesn’t know how to express that gratefulness, silently smiling as bursts of appreciation explode inside of her. She simply takes another look around her, memorizing and remembering all of their faces at this moment. 

 “ Happy Birthday, dear Erica, Happy Birthday to you… ”

 At the end of the tune, this signals her to blow out the candles and Jill to take a picture, the flash of the camera solidifying the moment for all of them. They all cry out in celebration, clapping after she blows out the candles. A few of them come to hug Erica and wish her a happy birthday personally, and she thanks them all, reveling in just how happy she is as the cake starts to get cut. Jill hands Erica the slowly developing photograph, and once the picture makes its full appearance she smiles at it. Seeing herself surrounded by all the S.T.A.R.S. members and their families, sitting next to Chris and Claire immediately solidifies that feeling of being home.

  Yeah — this is exactly where she’s supposed to be.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Burton residence.
TIME: ┃6:23:41 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After the cake was cut and pieces were passed out, Chris brought out the card that he got for Erica. It was a cute one with a couple of wiener dogs wearing hot dog buns on the front, reading ‘Hot Diggity Dog, It’s Your Birthday!’ On the inside of the card were tons of signatures from everyone, each one wishing her a happy birthday. The card was then followed up by a nicely wrapped box that contained a flower shaped mirror; something Jill had noticed out of the corner of her eye at the store while she and Chris were out shopping for a present. As soon as she saw it she knew it belonged in Erica’s apartment, believing it would match with the floral and neon theme she had going on. She obviously thanked her for it, excited to hang it up as soon as she got home. Chris, Forest, and Joseph awkwardly presented a small box that held a small S.T.A.R.S. badge pin, and etched into where the last name would usually go was her own surname. It was her very own S.T.A.R.S. badge! She was eager to pin it to her shirt, grinning like a little kid who just got a gold ribbon. Lastly, Claire gifted Erica a frilly box that contained a cherry themed accessory to hang from her car’s rear view mirror. Erica loved it — of course — and thanked everyone for all of the lovely presents. Once the main activities of the party were over with, everyone began to mingle until one by one they began to leave.

 As soon as the last guest is gone, Barry quietly closes the front door and locks it before he turns to Chris. “Alright, what is it that you and Jill wanted to talk to me about?” He asks in a low voice, but to Erica, even if he were to whisper, it means nothing. She can still hear him, and she immediately starts to wonder what he’s talking about. What do Chris and Jill want to talk to Barry about? 

 “Is there somewhere we can talk where no one can hear us?” Chris questions, “This isn’t something we want to talk about so openly…”

 Barry nods, “Of course. Follow me.” He motions for Chris to follow him, and as he turns to head down the hallway Chris looks to Jill with a quick nod. Jill nods back, and she gently pats Erica’s arm beside her. “Come on.” She says, standing up to go in the same direction. Erica slips off of the couch, not wasting any time following behind her. “What’s going on?”

 Jill’s voice is in a hushed whisper as the four of them start to enter a small office in the back of the house. “You’ll find out.”

Barry finds himself leaning against the edge of his desk, while Chris stands a few feet away from him beside a small leather couch opposite to the desk. Jill and Erica pile themselves into the room; Jill closes the door behind them while Erica finds a seat on the couch. Barry quirks a brow at her, before he shifts his attention to Chris. “Is Erica involved in this, too?”

 Chris responds with a frown, a frown that makes a sense of concern start to brew in Barry’s mind. “More than she would probably like to be.”

 Erica wants to confess how at a loss she is trying to figure out what’s going on, but before she can start to toss around any ‘Who’s’ and ‘What’s,’ Jill cuts the awkward tension starting to rise in the confinement of the tiny room. “Barry,” She addresses, “What do you know about Umbrella?” There it is . That’s all Erica needed to hear.

 Barry, on the other hand, is immediately taken aback by the question. Is this what the two of them said was so important? Umbrella? What about Umbrella? “Well, it’s a pharmaceutical company, of course.” He starts, “Pretty well-respected. They own a chemical plant on the other side of town that employs over half of the city’s population, so I can see why.” He nonchalantly shrugs, but he’s still sincere as he looks at her. “What about it?”

 Jill looks at Erica before she answers, as if to ask for permission to continue. It makes Erica’s lips form a straight line, and she nods at her. “What if we told you…” Jill’s head veers away from her and back to Barry, “...that they were dealing in something more sinister than just over the counter prescriptions?”

 Barry folds his arms, now intrigued by the words he’s hearing. Umbrella? Involved in more than just medicines? Well, of course they are. They produce cosmetics, chemicals, computer technology, industrial machinery, organic foods, vehicles, and even tourism; hell, they manufacture a majority of the gun models in the R.P.D. They cover a lot more than the typical pharmaceutical company probably would, but if they have the funds then by all means. Whatever the three of them are going to add to that long list interests him, because it must be a pretty big deal if they insisted on being so secretive about it. “Go on.”

 Jill sucks in a tense breath.

 “We’ve come to learn that Umbrella has been creating and developing deadly viruses since as early as the sixties. They have produced these viruses in order to infect a large percentage of the population or to create bio-organic weapons — all with the sole purpose of killing. Unfortunately,” She swallows hard, “we’ve also come to learn that in order for Umbrella to create and sell these weapons they have used humans as test subjects — either to be used as experiments, testing data, or a food source.”

 The exposed truth makes Barry’s stomach drop; now empty from the cake he had eaten earlier. What the hell did she just say? That Umbrella is killing people? Experimenting on them? “Umbrella would never get away with something like that — ” He scoffs, pulling his arms away from his chest. “ — it would be all over the news! Every station known to man would be scrambling to cover a story like that.” He has a serious stare burning right in between Jill’s eyes, and now she knows that this moment is probably the most pivotal. “Where did you hear this from?” He asks, but before she has the chance to respond Erica speaks up. “From me.” It goes quiet for a moment until his intense gaze shifts over to Erica, and his eyes squint with skepticism. “And how do you know this?”

 Erica’s eyes move around frantically as they look into his eyes with full transparency. She’s scared telling him this; scared that Umbrella or even the Agency might be listening in on the whole conversation. They both probably would have riddled the entire side of the house with bullets if they did, so she takes the silence as a means to jump — diving head first into revealing the very information that solidifies their claims. It almost catches in her throat, as if keeping it in for so long has prevented it from coming out, but she pushes through it, murmuring the sentence with the sound of defeat layered in her voice. 

 “Because I was one of their test subjects…”

 Barry takes in the words he’s hearing, and he doesn’t know what to make of it. What does Erica mean she was one of their test subjects? Is she sure it was Umbrella? How do Jill and Chris know this supposedly happened to her? Experiments? Viruses? Bio-weapons? His mind is wracked with questions, and it frustrates him that he can’t find any sense in any of it. He grunts in irritation, “Do you three even know what you’re saying? You’re implying that a multi-million dollar company is experimenting on people — ”

 Chris is quick to interject, reading the obvious struggle and confusion written on the older man’s face. “We wouldn’t be telling you if we didn’t believe it, Barry.” He sighs. “Listen, I didn’t believe it at first, either, but after seeing what they did to her I’m not going to second guess it.” He says, catching a glimpse over at Erica. He knows how Barry feels, not being able to believe a story like that. It sounds like a sci fi movie plot when they explain it out loud, so it’s understandable why Barry is so reluctant to believe them. Right now, however, he’s concerned with convincing Barry to join their little operation. With his help they could accomplish so much more, so convincing him to join them is crucial.

 Barry shakes his head; still stunned in disbelief. “Why are you telling me ?”

 “We need your help.” Jill answers, “With your connections we could alert the other S.T.A.R.S. branches so they can be aware of what’s going on, and with all of our combined efforts we could take Umbrella down.”

 The burly man sighs, trying to piece together what they’ve all explained to him. He knows he’s probably just losing his marbles, but seeing how grave and desperate all of their expressions are he might just believe them. Key word: might , but that slight might is enough for him to relent, and he rubs the bridge of his nose in deep thought before speaking. “I hope you have some evidence, because you’re going to need it if you want to convince the other S.T.A.R.S. branches to join in on this operation, including myself.”

 Erica pipes up. “Does that mean you’ll help us?”

 Barry eyes her for a moment, reading her facial features. Her eyes are filled with hope, but he can see utter desperation lingering behind them, clinging with every breath. He purses his lips. He’s probably going to regret this, but — 

 “I’ll tell you what.” He begins, “If you bring me some solid proof, the first thing I’ll do is contact one of my buddies up in Maine.” He glances between the three of them, observing all of their faces. “Deal?”

 Chris can’t help but grin, thankful his old friend at least considered them. He initially thought that Barry would have kicked them all out and called them insane, risking the entire operation entirely. It makes him appreciate that his fears and imaginations aren't real, content that the trio is now getting somewhere in all this. Occasional stakeouts and small snippets of information aren’t exactly moving them forward, but with Barry involved they could get the ball rolling a lot faster.  “I’ll take that over a ‘no.’” He jokes.

 Jill nods in agreement. “I second that.”

 As the other three start to talk about details, a weak smile creeps up to the corners of Erica’s lips. She’s exhausted, pooped out from all the excitement and energy from the long day. However, she feels compelled to remain positive; she got to go shopping, had a wonderful surprise birthday party where she got cake and a few presents, and as a final gift of the night the prospects of being able to take Umbrella down have gotten a lot higher. She knows they’ll continue to rise with every new connection made, but for now Erica is happy to revel in the satisfaction of knowing she’s slowly accomplishing what she came here to do. She has Chris and Jill on her side, and once they show Barry the proof he’ll take his place by her side as well. She’s glad to know that Umbrella will get what’s coming to them soon enough, and with all of the S.T.A.R.S.’ help — they won’t be able to know what’s coming. 

 Chris breaks her from her thoughts when he glances towards her, giving her a reassuring smile. She smiles back, but before either of them says anything Jill speaks up. “Well, I guess it’s time to go, then.” She remarks, turning to Erica. “You ready?”

 Erica nods, “Yeah.”

 The two women stand up from their seats and start heading towards the office door. Chris opens it to allow them to exit, following right on behind them. Barry leaves the room as well, flicking off the light as the group travels towards the front of the house. “I’ll see you three on Monday morning.” Barry claims, and they all bid their goodbyes as they each leave the now quiet home. Chris is the last to exit the house, but before he shuts the door he looks at Barry.

 “Hey, I just wanted to say thanks.” He says, “For considering.”

 “Don’t mention it.” The older man waves Chris away, and as soon as the three of them are gone Barry closes the door and is off to bed.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃ April 22nd, 1998.
TIME: ┃3:30:28 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

 The sound of knocking on her apartment door causes Erica and Chris to share a look between each other; both taken aback by the sudden intrusion. The two of them are watching Back To The Future, something they decided to do after they ate at Emmy’s for Erica’s birthday lunch. They’re only a quarter of the way through the movie, now paused as Chris presses the button on the remote. Erica starts to ponder, ideas roaming her mind as to who could be at the door. She wasn’t expecting anybody to come by, and as far as she’s aware Jill is working today. So, who could it be? It’s not Mr. Pines, is it? What could he want? “I got it.” She quietly says, getting up from her spot on the couch to head towards the door. When she opens it, however, she doesn’t expect to see the person standing at the door. In fact, she has no idea who this person even is.

 It’s a tall, middle aged looking man — possibly in his forties — with deep set eyes. He’s wearing an expensive looking trench coat and shiny black dress shoes. His dark hair is combed back; not a single hair seemingly out of place. The smell of cologne drenches his person, stinging Erica’s nostrils as she gets a whiff. There’s something else, too, but she can’t make out what it is before her eyes catch sight of what’s in his hand. He’s carrying a black briefcase, and his expression looks excited — gleeful almost once he sees her. There’s a twinkle in his eye that flashes as soon as they make eye contact, and he grins widely at her. “Good afternoon, Miss Slater. How are you?” There’s a happy melody in the sound of his voice, singing along with his words.

 Confusion riddles Erica’s thoughts, and she wonders who this man might be. She doesn’t recognize him — not at all — but the look in his eye makes her feel a sense of dread deep down. She isn’t sure why, but she brushes off the feeling before she decides to answer. 

 “I’m doing good. How about you?” She asks, hand still on the handle. 

 The sweet tune of the ‘yew’ that slips past her lips makes him certain that this is the woman he’s been interested in meeting; the woman he’s heard all about ever since she arrived in Raccoon City. Aside from her appearance greatly resembling that of the descriptions, pictures, and videos he’s seen of her, she is exactly how she’s been described. From her big, searching blue eyes, to her pale skin, to her icy blonde hair — right down to the thick Southern twang of her accent . He anxiously grips the suitcase in his hand, eager to give her what’s inside. Surely she’ll appreciate what he has to offer.

 “I’m doing well, thank you for asking.” He beams, “Are you busy at the moment?”

 ‘I was .’ She thinks, but she quickly disregards that thought. ‘It’s probably only going to take a few minutes. Tops.’ She surmises, reassuring herself that Chris and the movie can wait. It’s not like they’re going anywhere anytime soon. 

 Leaning against the doorframe, she tilts her head at him. “What can I do for you?” She questions, wary as to what this man wants from her. Although he doesn’t seem threatening, there’s something about him that makes her feel suspicious. She just can’t put her finger on why. Could he be working with Umbrella? No, no, he probably would have attacked her by now — or at the very least approached her in an entirely different manner. Umbrella’s people aren’t exactly known to be polite, but regardless of that fact she can’t help but be skeptical of him. 

 “I’d like to discuss a few things with you, alongside your friend back there if he so wishes.” He states, glancing behind her in Chris’s direction before shooting her a welcoming smile. “If you don’t mind, of course.” 

 Chris looks over and observes the strange man at Erica’s door, noting the quick glance he made towards him just a second prior. Wait, what is he looking at him for? Who exactly is that? Does Erica know him? Does he know Erica? ‘Well, he must know her if he addressed her by her name, much less showed up at her apartment…’ He supposes, placing his chin in his hand; his watchful eyes staring from his spot on the couch. 

 Erica grips the door handle, swallowing nervously as she stares up at him. What does this strange man want to talk to her about? What could he want to talk about that involves Chris, much less herself? He wants to speak with her yet he hasn’t even told her his name, making her all the more cautious as she treads further into the conversation. She can hear someone’s heartbeat start to beat faster until she realizes it’s her own, anxious about what this man’s true intentions might be. “What is it you’d like to have a discussion about, Mr…?” She draws out, hoping he’ll fill in the blanks for her. The confusion and apprehension dripping from her tongue makes him clear his throat, ready to answer any questions she may have as long as she’s willing to answer his own. “My name is Trent,” He introduces himself, giddy as he speaks. “and I’d like to have a discussion with you about your little,” He quotes the next word with air quotes, “ ‘project’ you have going on.” 

 The words that come from his mouth make her upper lip twitch, and she can feel her stomach tighten. Her body immediately becomes hot with worry; her hand starts to sweat from how hard she’s gripping the door handle, combined with the growing anxiety that’s prickling its warm, damp fingers down her neck. She repeats the words to herself again to make sure she didn’t just imagine it. ‘My name is Trent .’ ‘I’d like to have a discussion with you about your little ‘project’ you have going on.’ She can feel her breath catch in her throat just by repeating it in her head.

  Trent . A ‘ discussion ,’ ‘with you ,’ ‘your little ‘project’ ’ — 

 An awkward laugh exits Erica’s lips, immediately trying to feign ignorance to his words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 ‘Yes, play dumb.’ She encourages herself, ‘Don’t let him think for a second that he knows anyth — ’ Her thoughts are interrupted by the chuckle that she can hear rumble in his throat; a chuckle that sounds as if he’s already caught her in her lie. “Miss Slater, I assure you, I am no fool. You can play ignorant all you want, but I already know the truth.” He states, grinning as if taunting her. It causes a frown to tug at the corner of her lips. It appears he’s seen right through her — no — peered right through her very soul and saw her for the liar she is. ‘ Dammit . How the hell does he know ?’ She mentally curses to herself.

 She wanted to ignore his words and pretend she didn’t know who he was, but she does; she knows exactly who this man is and what role he plays. Although Trent was never in any of the Resident Evil games, Erica knows he played a pretty significant part in the Resident Evil novels written by S.D. Perry. His real name is Victor Darius, and a long time ago, his parents used to work for Umbrella. They were brilliant people — people who were, unfortunately, also naive. They created a synthesis that could universally eliminate human injury, and one day eradicate death by traumatic injury entirely. In turn, medical care would have been reduced at an exponential rate; it could have been used to help millions of people, but Umbrella saw it as nothing more than a threat. They were aware of its obvious potential, but they knew that the reduction of medical care meant medicines, medical supplies, and other various medicinal profits would plummet, which would have led to the entirety of their pharmaceutical business to go bankrupt. They decided to “remove” the problem; they killed his parents and burned the evidence, passing along their work to none other than William Birkin in the aftermath. The company covered it up and got away with it scot-free, but what they didn’t account for was Trent being away at boarding school. Since then, he made it his life’s goal to put an end to Umbrella and make them pay for what they’ve done, working his way up the ranks until he became one of Umbrella’s very executives and head of the “Agency” — the very company rivaling Umbrella in secrecy.

 Erica finds it odd that a character from those particular novels is in Raccoon City, but can she really question the oddity considering how she herself is in Raccoon City? Stranger things have happened. She shrugs it off and peers up at the expecting man. Now that her memory has been refreshed, she may or may not have an idea as to what he’s here to talk to her about. He must be here to help them, or at least give them some kind of information — but for what? What would he tell them that they probably don’t already know? She starts to theorize what it could be, but she quickly reminds herself that this man isn’t to be trusted so easily; after all, he is still working for Umbrella, not to mention the head of Umbrella’s rival and Ada Wong’s employer. 

 Before she can think of what else to say or do, he’s talking again. “May I please come in?”

 Erica is hesitant, unsure if she should let him in or slam the door in his face. He hasn’t done anything to prove that he’ll do something sinister, but that doesn’t make her believe any less that he might. He could walk in, trick them, hold them at gunpoint, or —

 “Yes, come in.” She says, cutting off her thoughts from creating anymore scenarios. Her imagination running wild has caused her enough problems, and she’s tired of asking what ifs all the time. She just wants him to come in, get his point across, and get the hell out so she can enjoy the rest of her birthday — and she’ll make that clear to him if need be. Her tightened grip loosens off the door handle as she opens the door wide enough for him to enter. He steps inside with a grin, and Chris stands up as the man sets foot into the apartment. Trent glances around and nonchalantly starts to examine the contents of Erica’s apartment, engrossed in the artwork and colorful decor adorning the home. Cute .

 “Uh, hello.” He awkwardly says, approaching the two of them. There’s an unsure look on Erica’s face, making Chris instantly worry about what’s going on. What does this man want? Why did Erica just let him in? Who is — 

 “Good afternoon, Mr. Redfield.”

 The man’s voice cuts through his line of questioning, reaching out a hand in order to shake his own. Chris quickly makes note of the expensive looking trench coat and shiny dress shoes, and he wonders what line of work this man must be in in order to afford such clothing. The smile he wears, however, makes Chris uneasy; it’s as if behind that haunting smile is someone who knows a lot more than he lets on — giddy that he knows something other people don’t. Just like he already knew Chris’s name. It takes him aback at first, but he chooses to ignore it, reaching his hand out to reciprocate the handshake. “Afternoon, Mr…?”

 The grinning man’s smile seems to grow only wider as he introduces himself, “Just Trent.”  

 Erica closes the door and folds her arms, watching him closely. “What are you doing here, Trent ?”

 Trent turns his attention towards her, and he’s amused by the way she says his name. Tree-yant . It’s not as intimidating as she probably hoped to achieve, but underneath that southern drawl is the clear sound of contempt. The way she says his name with such disdain sparks an inkling that she may or may not already know who he is, and the idea of that most certainly intrigues him. What does she know? How did she hear of him? He can ask himself all the questions in the world, but he’s not here to ask himself anything — he’s here to question Erica.

 “Miss Slater, are you aware of who ‘ Anonymous ’ is?” He inquires, and this immediately puts a stop to all the thoughts of annoyance rambling around in Erica’s head. What the fuck did he just say?  

 “Excuse me?” She asks, her arms unfolding and falling to her sides. Her lip twitches; as if she wants to say something but the shock is too much for her to form any words. Her throat tightens, and for a split moment she feels like she forgot how to breathe. Her heart begins to pound, beating faster and faster as her mind falls into denial over what she just heard. No, no, no — this isn’t happening. There’s no possible way that he could know about that. How does he know about ‘Anonymous?’ More importantly, what does he know, and what does he know that prompted him to come here? After she registers the implication that he might know of the anonymous entity, she’s suddenly hit with a rush of anger. He better have a damn good reason for confronting her with this line of questioning, because she won’t hesitate to get rid of him if that proves necessary.

 Chris glances between the two of them, and all he’s gained from the conversation so far is confusion. What the hell are these two talking about? Who is this Trent guy? Who is ‘Anonymous?’ What do they have to do with Erica, and why did her face turn pale just from hearing about them? “What’s he talking about?” He questions, hoping someone will finally clarify this whole interaction. He feels like there’s some kind of inside joke being kept from him — but nobody’s laughing.

 “Hold on, Chris.” Erica holds a hand up to shush him, now interested in finding out where this conversation is going just as much as he is. If Trent really knows something, then she wants to be aware of it. Whatever he knows, he better tell her. “I…” She starts, still hesitant to answer but eager to know more — more about the group that brought her here in the first place. “I know of them, but I don’t know who they are exactly.” She swallows thickly, “Why do you ask?”

 It seems Trent has struck a nerve — a nerve he plans on striking yet again as he starts to relay the information he’s spent many months sitting on. “Well,” He starts, “I don’t mean to come across as vain, but I assure you I am a smart man.” He chuckles, and the sound makes both Erica and Chris cringe beneath their expecting expressions. “On the day you arrived in Raccoon, one of my satellites picked up a hurricane of energy on the outskirts of town. In the middle of the large mass of energy was the body of a human being…” The words that come from Trent’s mouth make Erica bite the inside of her lower lip; afraid to know her every move all the way back to her arrival has been observed and worried that they might know too much for her comfort. “I experimented to see if I could trace the source back to wherever it came from, and little did I know that I contacted the very people who created this place. Pixel by pixel .” He says the last sentence in an almost antagonistic way, making Chris frown. Now he understands what Trent is implying, and now he understands why Erica’s face paled. He knows about the people who brought her here, and more importantly, he knows where she’s from.

 “They did not tell me what their purpose is, they did not tell me who they are, nor did they tell me why all of this was made — ” He states, secretly in awe and in horror at the idea that even he was created in the midst of all this — that everything here, including himself were nothing more than a program. He brushes it off, reminding himself that’s not why he’s here. He can place his own anger and confusion down at another time. “All they told me was that since I impressed them, they’ll make a deal.”

 “What was the deal?” Erica immediately asks, determined to find out what’s going on that would cause the organization responsible for her arrival in Raccoon City to expose her, much less themselves, like that. Especially to someone like Trent; he’s known to use whatever he knows to his advantage to get his revenge on Umbrella — whatever it takes to take them down once and for all. That might not be a total bad thing, considering that’s what Erica wants, too. Is that what all of this is about? Did the anonymous organization tell Trent of her operation in order to help her? God only knows what else they might have told him. She isn’t given the chance to come up with any more theories before Trent answers her inquiry. “The Anonymous group just so happened to inform me of your disdain for Umbrella.” He hums, “Mentioning something about the little ‘operation’ you have with Mr. Redfield, Miss Valentine, and Mr. Burton. They said that if I help you, they’ll help me.”

 Erica takes in his words, and once he’s finished she can only ask the first thing that comes to mind. “You’re in contact with them?”

 Trent shakes his head, “No. That was the only time I had spoken to them.”

 If the anonymous entity has been in contact with Trent, has told him that she’s planning on taking down Umbrella, told him who she was planning on doing it with, then does that mean that they told him about — ? No! No, they wouldn’t have told him that. They wouldn’t dare . “So — you know that I’m — ” She spits out, her mind scattering to pull herself together in hopes that he isn’t aware of who she is. Who she really is. The older gentleman decides to finish her thought, confirming her worst fears. “Not from here?” 

 It’s true; Trent knows Erica is not from this world. Where she's from exactly, and why the anonymous entity chose to send her here, he may never know. However, seeing as the two of them have the same goal he could care less about her origins. That could be theorized at another time, because again, that’s not the reason he’s here.

 Erica can feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up, but she manages to keep her cool. On the outside she’s silent, but on the inside she’s mentally screaming. She can’t believe those people would out her like that, but on the other hand she can’t believe they would create and send her — and possibly several other victims — to Raccoon City to test what they called their ‘experiment.’ It’s not unrealistic to assume they would create a new challenge for her; threatening the progress she’s been making with sinister glee. Why can’t she just win at something? Why does she always have to be tested? Why does she have to go through so much trouble just to be happy? Trent can see the battle she’s fighting inside her head, and he expected such a reaction. He knew she would probably be confused, then upset, and soon she might be angry. Hopefully she won’t direct that anger towards him, because he’s seen the things she can do; the horrific and disturbing yet incredible things she can do. She would most certainly be a valuable asset to him. He observes her face change — one that makes her look certain. “Then you should know I’m aware of who you really are, and why you want to get rid of Umbrella.”

 Trent’s lingering smile seems to falter for a moment, borderlining a frown at her statement. It seems she’s a lot smarter than he anticipated, but the anonymous group did inform him not to underestimate her. They said she knew a lot more than she let on, and now it clicks for him as to what they meant by that. Admitting to have knowledge of not only his own vendetta against Umbrella, but to know of his very upbringing makes his stomach clench; now anxious at the possibility of his own secrets getting out. It scares him, if only for a brief moment, that she might know even more than he does, and the sudden realization of that makes that smile turn into a smirk. Touché . 

“It would only be fair, no?” He says, “I trust you keep my secrets, I keep yours. I have nothing to gain from spilling them.”

 “What are you here for, then?” Chris asks, his tone of voice making his question sound more like a command. Trent’s overall presence has already soured his previously good mood, but throughout the conversation it’s been amplified by how the strange man’s words have encouraged Erica’s apparent distress. It doesn’t matter how he knows all of these things; what matters is that he should get to his point before Chris makes his own point to make the man leave. 

 Trent feels ecstatic almost just from hearing the question, ready to complete what he set out for. He raises the briefcase in his hand, motioning to Erica’s coffee table. “May I?” 

 Erica watches him, promptly nodding for him to do so. He walks around to place the case onto the table, unlatching the clasps and quietly opening it, revealing a variety of items. Inside there’s a vial with a clear liquid, two syringes, a palm sized circular device, a usb drive, two small walkie talkies, and an envelope. On the envelope is Erica’s name, written in the exact same way as the other envelopes before. Cursive and slanted, almost ineligible if not for the prominent E, posing as a backwards three. “They told me to give you these.” He informs, glancing back in Erica’s direction after observing the contents. What these objects are for, he doesn’t know. This is the first time he’s seeing what’s inside; all he was told to do was deliver the case to Erica and not to open it until he got to her apartment.

 Erica and Chris step forward, eyeing what they’ve just been presented with. Chris is confused as to what he’s looking at, and Erica is just as puzzled if not more. She’s unsure as to what these items could be for, but if she’s been paying attention then she’ll know that the envelope with her name on it might have something to explain for them. She reaches out to grab said envelope, lifting the lip and removing the letter inside. She takes a deep breath before she reads it over.

⋆

Happy Birthday, Miss Slater!

We apologize if our messenger might have given you a scare, but do not worry. He does not know more than what we tell him, and your identity is safe. We have simply chosen to send you a little help in the form of Trent, and we hope you’ll accept his allyship. He would be very valuable to your little mission, and seeing as you have provided us with so much promising data we decided to offer these items as a gift.

The vial is filled with a chemical that would allow anyone injected to regain all of their past memories of you. However, be mindful of when you use it. The serum will only restore past memories up until the current date. Any memories passed that will not be restored, and will require multiple injections to acquire the desired effect. We have provided syringes for the first couple of doses.

The usb drive is encrypted with a kill code. If you insert this into any Umbrella console, it will kill and erase all Umbrella information available. 

The compact device is meant to be used as a form of communication between us, and it is only to be used in cases of emergencies. There should be a button on the bottom to signal for assistance. The handheld transceivers are also to be used for communication, but they will be used between you and Trent. They contain a private frequency that no one but you and Trent will have access to, allowing you to communicate without suspicion. Please hand one of the handhelds to Trent before he leaves.

Use these items if you so wish, and take care. 

Sincerely,

Anonymous

⋆

 She makes sure to read the page a few times over to make sure she isn’t imagining what her eyes just read. ‘The vial is filled with a chemical that would allow anyone injected to regain all of their past memories of you,’ ‘anyone injected,’ ‘ regain all of their past memories of you ,’ —

 After all that she’s been through to tell Chris and Jill the truth of what’s going on, the anonymous entity determines that now is the time to help her with regaining their memories. For why they chose to get rid of their memories in the first place, she doesn’t know, but there’s a small flame of anger that starts to burn in the middle of her chest after learning of this new information. Her lungs tighten, and her heart stings from the sensation of a sudden heat, burning her veins as it surges through them. She knows that feeling; that feeling of anger brought on by the virus. It’s as if the virus is angry for her, but she ignores the notion to focus on all that the anonymous group told her. Trent is here to help, and much to her relief, knows very little than what she originally anticipated. Great . The vial contains a memory restoration serum and, based on what is described, if Erica were to inject Chris now he would only remember her up until today’s date of the last time she was here. Meaning, the only memories he would remember of her would be of before she was experimented on. Awesome . She now has a usb that could get rid of any and all of Umbrella’s data. Perfect . She now has two devices for communication; one to Anonymous for emergencies, and one to Trent for non-emergencies. Got it .

 After repeating the information in her head, she doesn’t know how to feel. She doesn’t know whether to feel confused, angry, depressed, or just downright tired. Ever since she’s been here everything has been such a rollercoaster, jerking her up and down, side to side, all around; there’s always something rearranging the tracks, leaving her constantly on her toes for what direction she’ll be heading in next. She can’t even catch a break on her birthday for Christ’s sake.

 She bites her lip, and both Chris and Trent can see the expression written on her face. It’s certainly not a happy one, and it makes Trent show a little concern. What’s in the letter? Good news? Bad news?

 “What does it say?” Chris asks, speaking Trent’s mind.

 Erica glances between the both of them before she purses her lips. While Erica trusts Chris enough to tell him what the letter says, she doesn’t exactly trust Trent, whether he brought these things to her or not. They’re immensely appreciated, don’t get her wrong, but he has yet to prove he’s trustworthy. She didn’t know of him to mislead who he treated as allies when she read the novels, but he’s still a shady man. He’ll have to work for her trust. “It says to give you one of these walkie-talkies for us to maintain contact. It’s programmed with a private frequency only you and I will have access to.” She explains, pulling one of them from the foam casing inside. She hands it over to him, and he gently takes it from her hands.

 Trent looks down at it for a moment before putting it into one of his trench coat pockets. He turns to Erica again, hoping that there’s more to his trip here than a mere two-way radio. “Is that all?”

 “All that pertains to you.” She replies, and Trent watches her, noting the tone of her voice. It seems as though she still doesn’t trust him, but she apparently trusts him enough to allow him to communicate with her, seeing as she handed over one of the radios with little hesitation. That’s sufficient enough for him to feel as if he’ll leave with something , rather than walk away from his golden ticket to taking down Umbrella empty handed. He nods, as if accepting that she won’t give him more than what he’s acquired. “I suppose I should take my leave, then.”

 Chris raises a brow, speaking up as suspicion arises from the sudden self dismissal. “You mean you’re not going to ask for anything in return?” He can feel himself make a face, conveying his skepticism. “There’s no catch?”

 “Not today.” Trent chimes, shifting his attention back to Erica as he steps towards the apartment door. “You have a nice rest of your day, Miss Slater.” He states. Erica follows behind him, eager for him to get out the door so she can close and lock it behind him. When she opens the door, she looks up at him for one final time. “You, too…” She quietly murmurs, and as soon as he’s out the door, she shuts it behind him. She presses her back against the door and throws her face into her hands, as if defeated and exhausted from the whole interaction. Chris stares at her as she does this, and he frowns. He doesn’t know who Trent is or what he has against Umbrella, who Anonymous is, or what the letter said to have caused Erica so much disturbance, but seeing her like this worries him.

 “Are you okay?”

 She lets her hands fall to her sides as soon as he asks this, making eye contact with him only a moment later. Seeing his face gives her a sense of comfort after all that just transpired, and she reminds herself that she doesn’t have to focus on any of those things right now. Right now her time is meant to be spent with Chris, watching a goofy movie. She has every other day to worry about corrupted companies and biohazards; today is her birthday, and she’ll be damned if she can’t enjoy something as simple as that. She lets out a deep sigh, shrugging off all of the stress for another time. “Yeah.” She says, her lips forming into a straight, reassuring smile. “Let’s just get back to the movie, okay? I don’t want this to ruin my birthday.”

 “Alright…” Chris mumbles, finding his seat back on the couch once Erica does. He eyes her as she unpauses the movie, now watching the screen with a blank stare. She continues to hold this expression for a while until something comedic happens, to which she lightly laughs. It’s not the same way she was watching it before; before, she was pointing out little things he never noticed like editing errors and pausing every second to make commentary, but he decides to ignore it for her sake. She obviously doesn’t want to talk about what was written in the letter, seeing as it changed up her entire mood just from reading it. He doesn’t want to tarnish her mood any further, so he won’t ask about it. He most certainly won’t ask how she feels about him — about them — either, believing he can just save that topic of conversation for another time. Even though that was his original plan, that plan went out the window the moment Trent knocked on the door.

 Now, he just wants her to enjoy herself.

 He reaches for the popcorn bowl on the coffee table, ignoring the half open briefcase still sitting on it. He grabs the bowl and pulls it towards his lap, but not before motioning it in her direction. “Popcorn?”

 Erica looks over at him, eyes the popcorn bowl, then him again, and then a relaxed smile creeps onto her lips. 

 “ Don’t mind if I do. ”

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃███.
PLACE: ┃█ ███, ████.
TIME: ┃█:██:██ ██.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “ Awake .”

 Her eyes pop open upon hearing the simple command, immediately darting around to find where the owner of the voice just came from. She knows that voice from anywhere; the voice that’s always telling her what to do, constantly demanding her body to commit atrocities to survive. It’s the voice that belongs to the very manifestation infecting her DNA — Sol. She doesn’t spot the viral embodiment at first; her eyes taking in the familiar floral scenery before the stark contrast of Sol’s appearance catches her attention. A sour expression befalls Erica’s features once her gaze lands on the horrific looking entity. Everytime Sol comes around there’s an unpleasantness that dwells inside of her just from being in its presence, but she chooses to brush her unease to the side, replacing it with annoyance. What does it want now? Is it here to scare her, to taunt her, or to warn her? Whatever the reason is, she knows it can’t be good. It only ever shows up when it has bad news to share, and quite frankly, she’s getting tired of hearing bad news. “What do you want this time?” She questions, annoyed but curious.

 Sol’s empty eyes turn towards her, and its facial expression is neutral — something that instantly puts Erica off. She’s never seen it look at her like that before, and the first thing that comes to her mind is that something really must be wrong. Something is terribly wrong. When Sol opens its mouth to speak, its words only make the alarms that have suddenly gone off in her head get louder. 

 “Something bad is going to happen.” It says, “Soon.”

 Her brows draw together at the statement, and her throat begins to tighten. She knows that if Sol is claiming something bad is going to happen, then more than likely it’s going to happen. Sol has never given off the impression that it’s a liar; if anything, it’s always told the cold, hard truth, making Erica believe its claim without question. She instantly starts to think of the worst scenarios imaginable, but before any of them can occupy her mind she stops herself. Instead, she thinks back to the other day when Trent stopped by for a visit. His sudden involvement may or may not put Erica’s mission at a disadvantage, and it’s possible Sol believes this sentiment just as much as she does. It could be here to warn her about him. “Is this about Trent?” She curiously asks, swallowing thickly. “Look, I’m worried about him, too, but — ”

 Sol cuts her off before she has the chance to finish her thought; its tone of voice sharp and immediate. “ No , this is not about him . He will help us later .” It snaps, as if agitated by Erica’s suggestion that Trent is the problem. “This is about the Arklay Mountains…”

 Erica’s face pales and her features contort, confusion and fear spreading across her face. Nevermind the implication of how Sol knows the mysterious Trent will help her later, the mention of one of Raccoon’s surrounding mountain ranges and makes her want to know what the hell Sol is talking about. What about the Arklay Mountains? Is something bad going to happen there? Just asking herself that question makes her stomach gurgle with nausea, worried about the mere possibility of what Sol could be implying. “What is this about, Sol?” She implores, anxiously waiting for the creature in front of her to either confirm or deny her fears. What it says next, unfortunately, accomplishes the latter.

 “Do you not remember the cries you heard the other night? Our B.O.W. brethren are preparing themselves for an attack, and we have to be prepared.” It firmly explains, and the words seem to grab the young woman into a chokehold. Of course she remembers those cries — how could she not? How could she — much less anyone — forget something like that? Those shrill screams; those monstrous shrieks that terrorized her to join them. She can still hear them now, screeching out for her to accept her true nature. A shudder runs down her spine as she recalls them, but she reluctantly ignores her discomfort, intent on knowing what Sol is trying to tell her. What do those B.O.W. cries have to do with the Arklay Mountains? She thought those terrible howls had come from the NEST facility, crying out from their earthly prison underneath the city. Although she thought it was them who called out for her, Sol clearly states otherwise. 

 …but why ? Why the Arklay Mountains? She was out hunting just a week and a half ago, and she didn’t sense any B.O.W.s then, so why are they a problem now? Apart from the ones being held within the Arklay Lab Facility — which is still inhabited by Umbrella — she can’t even think of any potential biohazard threats. The only one that can come to mind is James Marcus, but the last time she saw him was over a month ago. During their encounter she eliminated what she believes to be at least a quarter of his disgusting leeches contaminating the old, decrepit Training Facility, and for some stupid reason that action must have been enough to make her believe he wasn’t a problem anymore. She doesn’t realize the words come spilling out as she begins to wonder if he still is . “I thought — ”

 “You thought wrong .” Sol interjects, and Erica bites her tongue, putting her thoughts to a halt. “You have only given it more incentive to destroy everything in its path. You cannot prevent the inevitable, Erica. You can only defend against its wrath.” It continues, and a frown spreads across her lips. What does it mean ‘you cannot prevent the inevitable?’ and ‘you can only defend against its wrath?’? Is it telling her that everything she’s done has been all for nothing? That all she’s been doing is convincing herself that she’s been changing things? Is she — “You have changed many things. Your presence alone changes more than you know.” Sol replies to her thought, “But you cannot change what has been written. You will only be able to change your part of the story.”

 Erica makes a face. What the hell does that mean? Her part of the story? What part of the ‘story’ does she have exactly? What is Sol getting at, and why does it have to talk so fucking cryptic all the time? “What are you talking about?” She retorts, “Are you saying I can’t stop anything from happening? That people are still going to die?” The latter question makes her nausea bubble up again, but she forces it back down to start questioning the possibilities of the near future. Does that mean James Marcus gets his revenge after all? Is he still going to contaminate the Arklay Lab with the T-Virus, and if he does, does that mean the virus is still going to spread to Raccoon Forest? Could that mean the spread of the virus could be contained within the mountain’s woods? Could she eliminate threats as they develop? Could she —

 Sol’s voice cuts through her line of thinking, “You can do anything you set your mind to, Erica. You just have a stubborn set of morals.” It turns away from her, now staring off into the bright, yet sunless horizon. It watches the sea of flowers dance in waves, swaying from the gentle breeze touching down on them. “They do you no favors.”

 Erica scoffs. “ Gee, thanks. ” She sarcastically remarks. As she eyes Sol, she can’t help but wonder why it ever helps her. She knows that it told her it chose to let her live because of her valor, believing her spirit to fight for others is what made her worthy of living. Fair enough, but why does it act so flippant whenever it comes around? It will calmly tell her information it believes to be vital, but it will follow itself up with a backhanded compliment. It’s as if the creepy creature cares about her in its own way, and when the thought crosses her mind she can’t help but mentally laugh it off. There’s no way a virus could care about her, but if it did, she doesn’t care. As long as Sol is willing to help her, she’ll take what it says with a grain of salt. After a few silent seconds are shared between the two, she folds her arms, expectant that the monster has something else to say. “Is there anything else you want to add?”

 Its gaze falls on her once again, and when it speaks she’s struck with a wave of bewilderment. “ Miss Slater. ” It says. 

 Wait… what?  

 Hearing her name falling from the entity’s lips makes her drop her arms to her sides, and she wouldn’t have thought anything of it had it not been for the fact that it called her Miss Slater. Miss. Slater. It’s never called her that before … 

 “What did you just say?”

 Then, the next thing Erica knows is someone is shaking her awake, gently rocking her body in an attempt to stir her from her sleep. “Miss Slater, wake up.” It’s a woman’s voice — one that she’s heard before. It almost sounds like —

 — Annette Birkin . 

 Upon realizing who the voice belongs to, she suddenly opens her eyes. The older woman is looking down at her; her face displaying a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion. When Erica looks around the room and then back to the woman standing over her, she suddenly remembers what she was doing before she fell asleep. She had just put Sherry to bed when she went downstairs to find something to watch, and, based on the fact that Annette just woke her up, she must have passed out shortly after. How long ago that was, she isn’t sure. “Oh, shit.” She mumbles under her breath as she sits up. “I’m sorry,” She says aloud, “I must’ve passed out after putting Sherry to bed.” She starts to search around the room for a clock, wondering what time it could be. When she doesn’t see one, she turns her attention back to Annette. “What time is it?”

 Annette stands upright, watching her. This is the first time during Erica’s employment as Sherry’s babysitter that she’s gotten a glimpse of the young woman up close, and now that she gets a good look at her, she realizes that something about her is… off . What that is exactly she can’t put her finger on. “It’s almost eleven thirty.” She states, eyeing the other intently.

 Erica nods, oblivious to Annette’s staring due to her sleep filled daze. “Okay.” She replies, moving her legs off of the couch to stand up. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes as she stands, “Let me just get my things and I’ll be out of your hair.” 

 Annette walks around the couch, keeping an eye on her. She doesn’t know what it is about this woman that’s suddenly making her second guess her character, but she makes a mental note to mention it to William when she gets upstairs. She might just be being paranoid, picking up William’s own paranoia that’s generated in the past few years, but she’s curious to know if he feels the same way. She says something else as Erica straightens up the pillows. “My husband left your payment on the counter next to your purse.”

 “Alright.” Erica murmurs, walking around the couch and over towards the counter. “Thank you.”

 “Mhm.” is all Annette manages to say, disappearing up the flight of stairs but not before adding: “Lock the door on your way out.” 

Erica nods at the command, “Yes ma’am.”

 She watches the older woman ascend the stairs before going to grab her payment off of the counter. She shoves it into her purse and then slides the straps of her purse over her shoulder. She walks over to the side of the door, slipping her shoes on before checking around the living room to make sure she doesn’t leave anything behind. Once she’s checked, she glances over at the stairs. The sound of a door closing touches her ears, and once it closes a voice follows right behind it. 

 She can hear Annette saying something to William about something being wrong with Erica, and upon hearing this her lips press into a straight line. ‘Yeah, there’s something wrong with me alright, and wouldn’t you be surprised to know that you had a hand in it just as much as your husband did?’ She sarcastically remarks to herself, but she brushes it off as she turns around, simply making a mental reminder to be more wary of Annette from here on out. She steps towards the front door,  but as her hand grabs hold of the handle, she wonders what exactly made Annette say that to William. It was like just looking at her up close freaked her out enough to say something, and she can’t help but smile at the thought of scaring the older woman. After all the crimes that woman and her husband have committed and gotten away with, scaring her is the very least of Annette’s worries. Erica could do a lot worse. 

 After she heads out the door, she closes it behind her and heads towards her car. As she opens her car door, her eyes peer up towards the face of the Birkin residence. The light to the Birkins’ bedroom is still on, but after she takes a gander it suddenly shuts off. She doesn’t think much of it, getting into her car and putting her belongings in the passenger seat. She starts the engine, checks for any blind spots, and then backs out of the driveway, not realizing the bedroom light had been turned off to watch her depart from the home.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃ May 1st, 1998.
TIME: ┃10:28:21 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s May the first — ten more days before James Marcus is supposed to leak the T-Virus into the Arklay Lab — and Erica has been on edge all morning, anxiety crippling almost every single thought. She would have thought nothing of it a few days ago, believing that she had the power to put an end to the disaster before it even started. However, now as the day draws closer, she’s gotten more anxious, trying to mentally prepare herself for the inevitable. After her nightmare with Sol, she’s scared to know that there’s nothing she can do to stop the undead Umbrella founder from enacting his revenge. All she can do is fight back against the impending infection, eliminate any threats to the human population, and hope and pray that she can save the S.T.A.R.S. members from being killed off in the aftermath. Her gaze lifts up from one of the endless documents coming and going from her desk, and she starts looking around the room at all of her coworkers, taking in their faces. Seeing them so happy, going about their daily lives unaware of what’s to come, makes her frown. She looks back down at the document, forcing their faces to the back of her mind for now to focus on other thoughts.

 Aside from the impending viral spill, she’s worried Umbrella is planning something. It’s been a while since the last time they made an attempt to spy on her, much less make an attempt to kidnap her, and she isn’t sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. She interprets their reluctance to take action as a sign that they’re looking for the right opportunity, keeping her on edge just as much as James Marcus’s future plans are. Both Umbrella and James Marcus’s leering presence has made Erica consider laying low for a little while, staying in hiding and feasting on red meat and pig’s blood for the time being. She could continue hunting in the woods if she wanted, but it would be smarter to wait until Umbrella’s attention is turned away from herself to do so. She’s pretty positive they don’t know she’s the one that’s been killing their patrolmen, but one can’t be too sure. She just has to wait until the virus becomes Umbrella’s problem, and when that happens they won’t have any more means of keeping an eye on her. They’ll have other problems to attend to, and hopefully it’ll be enough to draw Wesker’s, William’s, and now Annette’s suspicions away from her and direct their attention onto James Marcus. 

 Fortunately for her that means she won’t have as many eyes on her, but it doesn’t mean they’re off of her entirely. Trent, on the other hand, is probably keeping a close eye on her, watching her every single move. Even now he probably has someone working in the police department to keep tabs on her, tasked with reporting every new action back to him. It makes her uncomfortable that he’s invested in her just as much as Umbrella is, but she’d rather have him watching her back than the aforementioned organization. As far as she’s aware, Trent has no interest in betraying anyone but Umbrella, helping others as long as they’ll help him in exchange. She has no problem with that kind of trade, but she definitely has a problem that he may know things about her that she’s told no other soul to other than Jill or Chris. It still bothers her that he knows she’s not from Raccoon City, but as long as he keeps his mouth shut she’ll let him live. That is, until he does something to cross her. He hasn’t done anything yet to make her believe he will, but that doesn’t mean she’s any less wary of him. 

 She flips over the document as she finishes viewing it over, and when she starts to read the back of said paper she decides to brush off her negative thoughts for now. She can talk to Jill and Chris about Trent later, and hopefully a conversation with them will ease her overwhelming anxieties. It may not ease all of them, but it’s better than none at all. A sigh exits through her nostrils, and as she does so Chris looks up from his desk. 

 He glances over in Erica’s direction, and upon getting a gander at her he realizes she’s wearing that face again — that face she always wears when she’s uncomfortable. He can think of a few times she’s worn that same expression, but the first one that comes to mind is the one she wore on her birthday over a week ago. After the mysterious Trent came and went, she bore that face for what felt like hours, and seeing the expression again makes him wonder if that’s what she’s thinking about. She could be thinking about what was inside of the briefcase Trent brought her, and now that the subject crosses his mind he can’t help but start to think about it, too. 

 At first, Erica didn’t tell him or Jill what was inside of the briefcase, extremely hesitant to answer either one of them. It didn’t take but a few days before she relented, telling them what the note inside of the case had said. She explained that the palm sized electronic device is for communication between herself and the supposed Anonymous organization she and Trent talked about. This information has nothing to do with Umbrella and doesn’t have any significance to anyone other than Erica, but the usb drive, on the other hand, plays a significant role in their plans. She told them the usb contains a kill code that would rid any of Umbrella’s consoles of their files and data, eliminating anything they’ve ever recorded or jotted down. Learning that news made him and Jill feel absolutely thrilled. He’d never felt so much relief to know they had such an item at their disposal — but when she admitted to them what the vial contained he felt his relief waver.

 The vial contains a serum that would allow the injected person to regain their memories of Erica, but she informed Chris and Jill that the serum would only allow them to remember a certain amount of memories. He still doesn’t understand exactly how it works, but what he does understand is that he now has the ability to get all of his past memories of Erica back. He hadn’t thought much of it at first, believing that his current memories of Erica are enough, but over the past week or so he's started to reconsider. What if his past memories contain something important? What if he remembers something about Erica that he doesn’t remember now? Did something happen between them the last time she was in Raccoon City? He’s asked himself many more questions, but those are the ones that keep resurfacing. 

 He looks away from Erica and turns his attention towards Jill. She’s currently working on correcting and organizing her own reports, and as he looks at her face he wonders if Jill might feel the same as him. Does she want her past memories of Erica back, too? He presses his lips into a straight line, and he can feel a migraine coming on just from thinking about all this. He doesn’t understand why any of this is happening to him or to Raccoon City as a whole, but if Erica has the key to helping him understand what role she has to play in all of this, he wants her to reveal it to him. ‘As a matter of fact,’ He thinks, ‘I might do just that.’ 

 Chris stands from his seat, tossing the pen in his hand onto his desk. He steps out from his little nook and towards Erica’s desk; a look of determination written across his face. As he approaches her, Erica glances up at him. Her bright blue eyes peering up into his own send a shiver down his spine, goosebumps rippling across his skin. He watches her pink lips part, speaking up to say something. “Hey, Chris.” She half smiles, “What’s up?”

 “Are you free after work?” He questions, and as soon as he asks her this she immediately starts to question where this conversation is about to go. Is he going to ask her out somewhere? Does he have some important information to tell her? Did he forget something at her apartment from the last time he was there? It could be anything, so she nods in response to his inquiry. Surprisingly, she actually is free after work. The Birkins called her yesterday to let her know they’d be off today and her babysitting services won’t be needed. It makes her wonder if it had anything to do with the other day when Annette told William there’s something ‘off’ about Erica, but she brushes the thought aside. “I am. Why do you ask?”

 Chris can feel his stomach flip, expressing his eagerness. “Is there any chance I can swing by your place later this afternoon?” He asks, “I think I forgot one of my jackets.”

 That’s not true, of course; he’s going to her apartment for an entirely different reason, but if he wants to fool any of Umbrella’s goons that might be listening then he has no problem sparing a little white lie. Unfortunately, the same little white lie might fool Erica, too, and he hopes she doesn’t get mad at him for deceiving her when he reveals the real reason for stopping by her apartment. He wonders if she’ll refuse to let him have any of the serum, but he won’t find out until he asks her.

 Erica nods again, relieved it wasn’t something new to worry about. She already has plenty of things to worry about right now — a forgotten jacket is the least of them. “Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.”

 Chris grins. “Awesome. I’ll make sure to give you a call before I drop by.” He states, and she smiles back at him. “Okay.”

 When he walks away from her desk, Wesker glares at him through the slats of his office blinds. He’s noticed Chris’s intensity to get closer to Miss Slater lately, and just seeing the way he looks at her makes him feel an utter disdain for the young man. Who does he think he is? What makes him think he’s worthy of such a specimen? If Chris only knew what courses through Erica’s veins, he wouldn’t be so eager to be enthralled with her. The thought makes Wesker’s lip twitch in amusement, and he wonders what would happen if Chris found out she was a monster. Would she kill him? The possibility of that would be enough for Wesker to pay to witness, but he shifts his thoughts to a different topic.

 Speaking of ‘pay,’ he’s been speculating when he’s going to be paid for the information he sold off to Umbrella’s rival, the Organization. He had contact with the company just a little over a week ago, and during their last communication he told them what he’d discovered about Erica. He’d told them she’s a carrier of the T-Virus, and upon mentioning this they expressed great gratitude. However, for some reason it felt like the response was performed — almost as if they already knew — but after they told him they’d pay him a considerable amount to find out more for them, he had no problem brushing it off. Now that it’s been over a week, he’s wondering if he should have made a bigger deal about it. 

 Wesker leans back in his chair, and as he does he glances over at Erica. She’s gone back to leaning over her desk, focused intently on the daily paperwork she’s given to review. It’s such a simple task that could be done by any of the other S.T.A.R.S. members, and now that he thinks about it, her position could be removed entirely and there would be no difference. It would simply give the S.T.A.R.S. members more paperwork to do, but that wouldn't be a problem. He strokes his chin in thought, and after a few strokes a plan suddenly comes to mind. If he got rid of the secretary position and replaced it with a new S.T.A.R.S. position, he could hire Erica as one of his security officers. She could be taught how to fight and how to use a gun, and in doing so Wesker would not only gather data on her abilities but he would gather data on how fast she can adapt to her environment. As he thinks about it more, he decides that’s exactly what he’s going to do. All he has to do to make that happen is convince the fat faced brute of a man Chief Irons to make it happen, and considering Irons will do anything for a lump sum of money that won’t be too difficult.

 Wesker can’t help but grin to himself, content with this plan. He revels in this sinister satisfaction for a few moments before turning to his computer. He has an email to write, and it’s not going to write itself.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃ May 1st, 1998.
TIME: ┃06:58:32 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s been over an hour since Erica clocked out and went home, and during that time she’s been able to keep herself relatively busy while she waits for Chris to stop by. She took a nice, hot shower and ate a full package of bloody pork before she got a call from him, letting her know he was on his way shortly. After getting off of the phone with him, she decided to watch the remainder of a Golden Girls episode to finish out the rest of her wait. When she reaches the end of the episode, the credits slowly begin rolling up the screen. She’s about to start watching the next episode when she hears a knock on her apartment door, prompting her to get up and walk over. She takes a quick peek of her visitor through the peephole, and she’s instantly relieved to see that it’s Chris. It’s not like she wasn’t expecting him or anything, but it gives her a sense of comfort to see him. ‘About time.’ She thinks, unlocking the door and pulling it open. She greets him with a smile, “Hey, Chris.”

 When Chris sees her, it’s as if the anxiety he’d gathered on the way here suddenly died away, and seeing her makes the determination he felt earlier in the day resurface. He can do this; all he has to do is ask Erica for his memories back, and then he can find out everything he needs to know. He’s seen evidence of these so-called past memories existing based off of the pictures littered in Erica’s experiment files, but it’s not exactly the same as remembering them. He wants to know everything — how he and Erica met, what happened between them, and whatever else in between. He doesn’t care if it’s something silly like how she sleeps or even a dorky childhood story she never shared. He just wants to remember. He smiles back at her, hoping and praying she’ll give him what he yearns for. “Hey.”

 Erica opens up the door to allow him to step inside, and when he enters the apartment she glances up at him. “So, where do you think you left your jacket? I couldn’t find it anywhere…” She states, closing the door behind him.

 Chris awkwardly sucks in a breath and slowly turns to her. “I…didn’t actually leave my jacket, Erica.” He says, and her brows furrow in confusion. What? Then why did he — “I wanted to ask you if I could get my memories back.”

 The statement that falls from his lips takes her by complete and utter surprise, hitting her like a freight train. She freezes in place, and all she can do is stare at him. Her throat feels dry all of a sudden, and she wants to say something — to tell him she doesn’t know if it’s a good idea, to question if he’s positive it’s what he wants, to form some kind of protest to his request — but she can’t. She can’t say anything at all, because deep down she wanted him to ask her this. She’s longed for him to remember her and all that they’d been through ever since she laid her eyes on him again, and she’s spent a few nights wondering if he wanted the same after Trent dropped the briefcase off at her apartment. Now she knows that he does want to remember, she can’t deny what truly belongs to him.

 After a few moments of silence, she takes a deep breath. “Okay.” She replies, exhaling. Her response makes Chris stare back at her for a couple of seconds, watching her eyes as he registers what he just heard. Did she just say ‘okay’? There’s no protest, no criticism, no questions — just ‘okay?’ He wonders if this is some kind of test, but he quickly pushes the skepticism out of his mind. He’s just glad she didn’t say no. 

 Before he can form anything to say, she says something else. “Just take a seat on the couch. I’ll go get the vial and a syringe.” She adds, heading off in the direction of her spare bedroom. 

 Chris watches her leave the room, asking himself what made her say yes so quickly. He chooses not to question it any further, instead deciding to mentally prepare himself for what’s about to come. He’s about to relearn some of his past for crying out loud; he should probably be more focused on that instead. He promptly follows Erica’s instructions and finds a seat on the couch directly across from the television. Upon seeing Golden Girls on the screen, he can’t help but feel a cheesy smile grow on his lips. He didn’t know Erica liked this show, and he can’t help but wonder about what other sitcoms she might like to watch. ‘Does she watch Frasier, too?’ He thinks, slightly amused. 

 Before he can speculate anymore, Erica returns to the living room with the vial and a syringe, just like she said. She places the items onto the coffee table before motioning towards her bedroom. “I’m going to find a belt for the syringe. I’ll be right back.” She says, and just before Chris is able to tell her she can just use the one he’s wearing she’s disappeared into her room. He just sits back on the couch, waiting for her to return again. When she comes back with a belt, she takes a seat right next to him. She motions the belt towards his arm, and he raises it to allow her to wrap it around. She makes sure it’s tightly secured around his arm, then tosses the remaining belt over his arm and out of the way. 

 Once she’s done, she reaches for the vial and syringe. She takes off the syringe cap and sets it back on the table before shifting her gaze to the sticker wrapped around the vial. It gives her a single measurement, and after reading it she puts the needle of the syringe into the vial’s crimped cap, filling up the syringe to the exact measurement given. After she fills the syringe, she places the vial back onto the table. She flicks the needle on the syringe a couple of times to make sure it isn’t leaking, and as soon as she sees that it’s not she shifts her attention to Chris’s arm so she can find a vein to stick it in. Just as she finds one, she can notice Chris looking at her from the corner of her eye. She looks up at him, and when they make eye contact they don’t need to say anything — they can read the tension spread across each other’s faces loud and clear. He gives her a reassuring smile; one that makes her nervous and comforted all at the same time. “Here goes nothing.” He lightly jokes, causing a smile to grace her lips.

 “Yeah…” She says as she looks back down. “Here goes nothing.” She repeats, and then she punctures his skin with the needle.

 Chris’s face twitches at the sudden prick, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. It’s just a little shot. ‘Yeah,’ He retorts to himself, ‘A shot that contains all of your past memories of the woman you care about.’

 Once the needle has made contact with the vein, Erica slowly begins pressing down on the syringe, emptying its contents into his arm. It takes her less than a minute to completely empty it, and when she’s done she retracts the needle from him. She sits still for a moment, watching his face to see if there are any changes. She doesn’t notice anything right away, but one, two, three seconds pass and his eyes suddenly roll into the back of his head. His features lose any semblance of emotion, color instantaneously draining from his face. His body tightens and locks up, and Erica’s stomach immediately drops, dread rushing down her spine at the sight of him. “Oh my God.” She gasps, putting the syringe onto the coffee table to give him her full attention. He’s having a seizure!

 “Chris!” 

 Chris, while exhibiting seizure-like symptoms, luckily is not having a seizure. He is, however, unable to hear or answer her at the moment. He’s in a comatose state, prevented from being able to hear, speak, or even move by an unknown force. It’s as if he’s being kept completely still, forced to witness the sudden surge of images and sounds that start to flash and echo in his mind. The first set of memories he witnesses are set somewhere outside of Raccoon City; it’s raining, and he’s running up to Jill only to spot a young woman’s body — Erica’s body . The next thing he sees is the two of them taking her to the hospital with Jill staying behind. He was skeptical of her doing so at the time, but she was determined to help Erica. Her determination had led to the memory trailing right behind it: when he first met Erica at Jill’s apartment. He had been introduced to her as Starr then…

 “Chris!” Erica cries, watching in horror as Chris continues to seize. Tears start to fill her eyes, and she starts to hyperventilate. “Oh my God, what did I do? What did I do? ” She panics, wondering if she should call 911. She knows it would be stupid to do that and risk being arrested, but from the way his eyes are pure white to the way his arms and legs are firmly locked in place, she’s seriously considering it. As she continues to freak out, Chris continues to relive his past memories.

 He watches on as he intensely witnesses different scenarios shared between him and Erica; in one memory Jill asked him to go to her apartment and get Erica outside, so he took her to Emmy’s. In another memory Erica was almost kidnapped by Umbrella, so she ran to the police department in search of help. She looked so terrified when he saw her, and he didn’t ask any questions when Jill asked if he could take Erica to his apartment to keep her safe. In the next memory, Erica joined all the S.T.A.R.S. members for a night out at Black Jack’s where he taught her how to play pool.  In the one after that, he took her out to his “secret” spot in the Arklay Mountains to cheer her up after almost being kidnapped. 

 That was the first time he said he wanted to kiss her, and he remembers her saying she wanted to kiss him, too, but the conversation didn’t go anywhere beyond that. He didn’t know why back then, but knowing what he knows now he’s pretty positive why she didn’t want to get involved with him. He wasn’t real to her, and she was just stuck in a fictional world and had no idea what was going to happen to her. She was so unsure that she asked him if he and Jill could teach her self defense, and so the memory promptly following behind that one is of Chris and Jill doing exactly that. After their training session, Chris drove the girls home where he and Erica shared a kiss before she went inside. At that very moment he wanted to tell her how he felt but he chickened out like all the times he had before, and then just like that she was gone. She was right there, and Umbrella took her away from him. He can now recall reading the note she left for him and Jill to find, and upon finding it it utterly destroyed him. Her kidnapping led him down a spiral of depression and alcoholism, and the last thing he remembers is how much he yearned for her. He remembers just how much he despised himself for not being there to save her, destroying his own sanity for something that was out of his control. He remembers pain and heartache —

 — and now that he remembers, he snaps back to reality. 

 His eyes roll forward, and he blinks his eyes several times to readjust his vision. His muscles relax, and he’s able to take full control of his body again. When he realizes where he is and what just happened, he immediately turns to a red faced, teary eyed Erica who’s staring at him in disbelief. She looks terrified, and seeing that terrified face sparks those past memories to life. She still looks the same, aside from the obvious white hair and icy eyes, the noticeable weight loss, and the nose ring she had before is now gone. He observes the features on her face, taking them in like he hadn’t seen them in a long time. It feels so strange considering she’s been in front of him since she got here, but it’s like he was missing something for so long that was suddenly right in front of him. Now that it’s in front of him —

 — he immediately stands and reaches forward, grabbing her arm so he can pull her close. 

 Erica doesn’t resist him, letting him pull her arm and, in turn, her body against his own. He leans down and buries his face into the crane of her neck and shoulder, slinking his arms around her torso and giving her a squeeze. He just wants to hold her close to him, as close as he can, and not let go for a long time. Her lower lip quivers as she nestles her face against his chest, tears staining the fabric of his shirt as they continue to trickle from her eyes. She doesn’t know what just happened or why he just pulled her into a hug, but as long as he’s okay that’s all that matters. She thought she had hurt him — or worse . She sniffles, leaning into his affection but still tense from the sudden adrenaline. She can smell the cologne hanging off of his clothes, and beneath that artificial musk she can smell him . His smell comforts her, easing the rush of adrenaline dying down in her body. For once his scent doesn’t make her appetite immediately spike, but she doesn’t question why that may be. She just wants to relish in whatever affection he gives her, but she wants to make sure he’s okay first. She’s about to pull away to ask him if he’s alright before he says something; his voice right in her ear.

 “I love you.”

 Those three little words make Erica’s eyes instantly go wide, and she pulls away to stare at him in shock. Her heart starts to pound as she processes his words, beating so loudly that it fills her ears. Did she just hear that right? Did he just say ‘I love you?’ Did… Did he really just tell her he loved her? Of course he did — she’s not deaf . She heard him loud and clear, and when she looks up and into his eyes it only confirms what he just admitted. His watery eyes are looking down at her with so much regret and longing, and it only takes but a moment to pass for her to finally understand. He remembers. He remembers!

 She can’t believe it; the serum actually worked! Those Anonymous bastards actually gave Chris his memories back. If they gave him his memories back, then that means he finally remembers everything that happened from before; he remembers how he and Erica met, what occurred in between, and when she was taken. The very tail end of her thought sticks out like a sore thumb as it crosses her mind, and she realizes through her awe and astonishment that that is probably the very last memory he has of her — finding out she was kidnapped by Umbrella. It makes her wonder immediately dissipate, replaced by complete empathy. It drives home just exactly how he might be feeling, and it makes his statement impact her even harder. There’s no way to tell exactly how he felt about losing her, but if he loved her before she was kidnapped then there’s no way to tell how hard it must have been for him; to know that someone you love is gone for what you can only assume is forever. 

 Her eyes tear up again at the notion, now remembering her own feelings of longing and despair after she went home to the real world. She felt as if going home was the right choice, but she didn’t realize just how much Chris meant to her until after he was gone. Anytime she would leave her house, she’d search for his face among the seas of strangers that came and went. She tried to move on, but nothing ever went anywhere. Little things like pictures and smells would reignite her memories of him and the time they shared, but she would have to remind herself that it wasn’t real — that all that she had experienced was nothing short of a bad dream. 

 Now that she’s standing in front of him, staring into his deep, brown eyes, that bad dream feels like forever ago. It’s as if his gaze looking into her own washes away all of her fears and anxieties — ridding her mind of any obstacles to reach him. He’s right in front of her, holding her so desperately in his arms, and this time she isn’t going to let the moment drift away from her. She’s going to relish in it; she’s going to take a plunge into dangerous waters without fearing the unknown. She’s not going to run away anymore. She’s staying right where she is. 

 Tears swell up in her eyes again, and one trickles down her cheek as her own words of affection leave her lips. “I love you, too, Chris…” 

 Another tear falls down her face, but he wipes it away with a swipe of his thumb before it can drop to the floor. Chris is elated to know that she feels the same, regardless of all that has transpired. He can’t even begin to describe how relieved and grateful he is just to hold her now, much less hear that she loves him, but he won’t let his elation ruin the moment they’re sharing. Through the tears and overwhelming emotions he sees the beautiful woman he fell in love with — not only once, but twice — and he feels the immense desire to act on those emotions. 

  His eyes glance down at her lips before darting back up into her own again, signaling to Erica what’s exactly on his mind. She doesn’t need any more hints to know what he’s implying, prompting her to tip her head up towards his and his head to dip down towards hers. She clutches the fabric of his shirt as he draws closer; her heart beats growing louder and louder by the second. She’s unsure if it’s even her own heartbeat anymore, positive that Chris’s heartbeat is pounding away just like hers is. When their lips finally touch, a surge of passion rushes through both of their bodies; passion that had been held back for as long as they could remember.

 They kiss each other deeply, pressing themselves together as close as possible, and it isn’t long before their hands start to slide underneath each other’s clothes. Erica can feel his warm fingers gliding over her cold skin, the sensation causing her body to throb with want. Chris shudders underneath her cold touch, and he pulls at the back of her shirt in response. He pulls away from their intense kiss to start kissing along her jawline, his lips traveling down her neck with peppers of kisses. “I think we need to take these off.” He says, and his tone of voice combined with his lips pressing against her jugular is enough to make her agree; no questions asked. “Okay.” She bites her lip, and he responds by lifting her shirt up and over her head. He tosses it to the side before going back in to kiss her, running his hands from the top of her shoulders to the bottom of her back. He moves his hands over to her love handles, gently massaging them until Erica grips at the hem of his shirt, motioning to take it off of him. He pulls away from her to allow her to take it off, and before it even has the chance to touch the floor their lips touch again. 

 Chris runs his tongue along her lower lip, and she sticks out her tongue to meet his own. He grunts; his hands squeezing her buttocks as she moves her tongue around his in circles. 

 ‘ Goddamn .’ He thinks, aroused by the simple motion, and he uses the hold he already has on her ass to lift her up. He moves one hand behind her back to hold her up and the other to slide one of her legs around his waist. She wraps her legs tightly around him, and once he has a hold on her he carries her towards her bedroom. 

 When he steps into the room, he gently lays her onto the bed and uses one of his feet to take off the shoe on his opposite foot. He does the same with the other, and as he unbuckles his belt he pulls away from their kiss to look down at her. She has a huge grin on her face; her eyes filled with love and lust, and she bites her lip as she runs her hands up and down his arms. Christ. He can feel himself getting hard just by looking at her. She reaches behind herself to unclasp her bra, and when it slides away from her body his dick throbs. Holy shit . 

 It’s not like Chris hasn’t seen her body before; he’s seen her body many times, but this time is different. All those other times were under completely different circumstances, so he didn’t really acknowledge anything in particular about her body until now. Now that he’s able to have a good look at her, seeing her pierced breasts takes the air right out of him. He catches himself staring at them, and he stops himself by leaning down and giving Erica a kiss. She smiles against his lips, and he reaches his hands up to massage her breasts, his thumbs running over her nipples in circles. She moans into their kiss, and Chris pulls away to move down and take one of her nipples into his mouth. As the warmth of his mouth comes into contact with her nipple, she reaches up to bury her fingers into his hair. She gasps as he starts to suck, twirling his tongue around her nipple and teasing her piercing.

 “Oh, fuck .” She curses, her hips instinctively thrusting up towards his own. He thrusts his hips back towards hers, inciting the two of them to start grinding against each other. She grips his hair in between her fingers, and when he pulls away from her breast he moves over to the other. She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, desire and want burning in her extremities. A shudder of pleasure runs down her spine, and she moves her hands away from his hair to grab at his pants. “You should take these off.” She pulls at one of his belt loops, “Now.” She growls.

 Chris sits up; his arousal excited from her command. “Yes ma’am.” He grins, getting off of the bed to remove his pants. While he does so, Erica slides off her shorts, leaving the both of them only in their underwear.

 He crawls back onto the bed, but just before they’re about to do anything else he looks at her. “Do you have any condoms?” He asks.

 Her face suddenly turns from frisky to a flash of realization. Shit . She didn’t even think about that. In fact, she hasn’t thought about that in a long time. Even though she’s been on birth control since she was sixteen, it’s been almost five years since the last time she had sex so she hasn’t thought about a condom in forever. For three of them she felt as if the dating pool wasn’t good enough for her to sleep with anymore, and for the last year and a half she felt like she was going to eat someone if she slept with them. Now that she’s about to have sex with Chris, she didn’t realize she was going to need a condom until now. His next couple of words put her sudden panic to an abrupt end.

 “No worries.” He laughs, moving back off the bed to grab his pants. He pulls out his wallet, and when he opens it, out comes a convenient condom. He turns to her, “Forest thought I was coming over here to get laid.” He sheepishly says, tossing his wallet on top of his pile of jeans.

 Erica can’t help but grin. Son of a bitch. “He may have been wrong, but I’m glad his assumption saved us.” She jokes, and Chris smiles at her. “I couldn’t agree more.” He replies, leaning in to give her a kiss. She giggles, holding his face in between her hands. 

 The mood picks up again, and her hands glide down his chest to run her fingers underneath the hem of his boxers. His dick twitches from the sensation; his hips moving forward into her touch. He moves his lips from her own to press them from her collar bone all the way down to her stomach. His hands curl around the sides of her panties, and he plants a few more kisses onto her hip bones before pulling off her underwear. He slowly takes them off, pulling them along her leg and tossing them somewhere behind him. When he looks down, he raises his brows in surprise. She’s pierced there, too? God damn. She holds her breath, anticipating him to take off his own boxers. When he notices her staring, he can feel the corner of his mouth hold a small smirk as he takes them off.

 When she sees him, Erica swallows. Jesus Christ on a cross . She can’t help but stare at it, and a small part of her feels like it’s staring back at her, too. Oh sweet Lord . She breaks eye contact with it when he opens up the condom, placing it on the head of his cock and then sliding the rim down his shaft. Once he’s properly put on the condom, he grabs her legs and positions himself in between them. He doesn’t do anything yet, instead leaning back down to give her another kiss. She can feel him pressing against her, and it takes all the power in her not to jump his bones right here and now. It seems he read her exact thoughts at that very moment, prompting him to take a hold of himself and guide the tip of his cock towards her entrance. She whimpers, eager for him to slide into her. When he does, she lets out a loud gasp while he lets out a low grunt. ‘Damn, she’s tight.’ Chris looks down at her, watching her face to make sure she’s okay. It must have been a while. Due to his length and girth, and the fact that she hasn’t had sex in so long, it takes a moment for her to adjust to him. When she does, she looks up at him and nods, signaling to him to start moving. 

 He starts off slow, moving in and out of her with a steady pace. Erica bites her lip as he does so, and after a minute or two she places a hand on his arm. “You can go faster.” She says, and as soon as the words slip past her lips he begins thrusting faster. She starts to pant, her grip on his arm getting tighter as he picks up the pace. His pace continues picking up until moans start falling from her mouth, and they get increasingly louder as time goes on. A moan comes from him when she reaches up and digs her nails into his back, and he buries his face into her neck. He presses his lips against her skin, and she squeals as soon as he hits the spot he’s been looking for.

 “Oh, my God, Chris, right here,” She pants, and he moves his lips over to her ear. “Right there?” He asks, and she moans. “Yes, right fucking there! ”

 Erica’s words cause Chris to thrust harder; the sound of their flesh slapping against each other urging him to keep going. She gasps, moans practically drooling from her mouth. The amount of pleasure surging through her body is enough to make her toes curl and her eyes roll into the back of her head, and Chris enhances it by sliding her legs back towards her head. She cries out in ecstasy, unable to form any words as he fucks her. Her eyes start to fill with water, and she bites her lip as the pleasure builds up inside of her. A few more thrusts and she can feel herself suddenly push against him, stiff and locked in place as she squirts all over his cock. He feels her walls pulsing against him, and as soon as a long, deep moan comes out of her the sound of slick wetness echoes in the room. This is enough to make him orgasm, too, and he moans into her ear as he releases himself into the condom.

 He slows down before pulling himself out of her, and after he does he looks down at her. She’s still trying to catch her breath, panting heavily, but she looks up at him. Her eyes are glowing, and at first he was put off by it, but now he finds himself drawn to the glow. She’s gorgeous to him either way. She gives him a weak smile as he stares at her, exhausted from their love-making but not wanting to miss any moment to look into his eyes. He gives themselves a moment to catch their breath, and as soon as they do he says something. 

 “I can’t tell you how long I wanted to do that…” He jokes, and she lets out a snort. “Same here.” She giggles, and when she giggles he smiles wide. 

 Chris couldn’t be happier; he’s glad to have his memories back, to know Erica feels the same, and to have her here now, staring up at him with her big, beautiful, icy blue eyes. He’d craved to have her for so long, and here she is — right in front of him. Everything was complicated for a while, but none of that matters anymore. All he knows is that going forward he wants her with him through every step of the way. He isn’t sure what their future is going to be, but as long as it’s with her that’s all he cares about. Umbrella, bioweapons, monsters — none of it means anything to him at this very moment — all that matters is her. He glances down at himself before glancing back to her, and he smiles. “How do you feel about a shower?”

 She smiles back at him. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Spencer Estate.
DATE: ┃ May 5th, 1998.
TIME: ┃07:43:08 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

  Whoooshhh…

 The howling winds of an ugly storm let out a ghostly wail; the sky pitch black from the blanket of clouds covering the moon and stars. Rain violently pours down the outside of the mansion’s windows, with the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the sky. A roll of thunder growls in the distance, and the elderly man sitting at the desk in the center of the lavish room leans back in his chair. He rubs the bridge of his nose to keep himself awake, sleep desperately pulling at his eyelids. This type of weather always seems to make him feel so tired and dreary, but he has to remain awake for Albert’s arrival. He’s expecting him to visit with information about the personal mission he had given him a couple of months ago, and he specifically requested for his pupil to make an appearance at his estate to discuss the topic of conversation privately. After being away from home for so long attending meetings and conferences, listening to endless requests for new investments, the old man has never been so eager to talk about something other than financials.

 During Wesker’s previous visit to the estate, he informed Oswell about an incident that occurred with one of the extraction teams. A young woman who had been chosen to become a new test subject subsequently crashed the van she was being transported in, but that is not all that he had been told. The officers in the van were all killed, but not by the crash; they were all killed and eaten, but for some reason the kidnapped woman was nowhere to be found. It turns out that the woman was not only still roaming around Raccoon City, but she had no sign of injury or trauma from the incident. This immediately prompted him to assign a personal mission for the younger man: keep an eye on her, document anything learned, and report. Now, he’s supposed to be returning to him with new details on the matter, and the elder couldn’t be more hungry for knowledge. 

 Ever since that woman made an appearance in his dream back in December, the thought of her has continued to linger in the back of Oswell’s mind. From the way she intruded on his dreams simply because she willed it, to the way she seemed to know him, to the way her eyes glowed before disappearing — his curiosity was more than piqued. He wanted to know more about her; where she had come from, how she knew him, who she was, and more importantly, what she was. Then, as if it was destined, in mid February one of his prodigies shared that the very woman he dreamt of is real. Her name is Erica Slater, and she had just recently started living in Raccoon City around the same time he had dreamt of her, currently working as a receptionist at the RPD at the time of being informed. Not only that, but his pupil also theorized her to be infected with the T-Virus. Learning that tidbit of information was enough to send Oswell’s scientific mind into a frenzy. Was it true? Was there really an asymptomatic T-Virus host walking around his precious city? The very possibility of that was something he had only dreamt of, but to hear Wesker say that the possibility was actually a reality made his old heart skip a beat. He should have probably been concerned about it, but he didn’t care. A medical issue was the last thing on his mind — far from it ever since he’d come to know about this mysterious woman.

 He has spent his entire life searching for a way to create the perfect superhuman, and in turn, an entire race of superhumans. Through this woman he could finally achieve this goal, and he’d be able to rule over this race as their god. He’ll be able to create a new garden of Eden, with Albert as his Adam and Erica as his Eve. He’ll be able to acquire all that he’s hoped and desired for all these years, and he’ll be able to relish in the fact that it was all accomplished by his very hand. For he is the reason she is infected with the T-Virus, is he not? After all, how else could she have been infected? She must have been one of Umbrella’s previous test subjects who died, and when her body was tossed out she was miraculously revived. Yes , that must be it! What other way could there be? 

 He isn’t given anymore time to theorize before the sound of a knock reaches his old ears. He shifts his attention towards the double doors across the room. ‘That must be Albert.’ He surmises. Right on cue . 

 He clears his throat, reaching for his cane leaning against the side of his desk. “Come in.” He states, standing up from his seat with a struggling grunt. 

 One of the doors to his office slowly opens, and Wesker steps into the room before discreetly closing it behind him. He stands still for a moment, watching as the older man makes his way over to the leather chair sitting in front of the fireplace.

 “Do you have anything new to share?” Oswell inquires, holding his breath as he lowers himself down into the chair. He lets out a sigh of exhaustion once he sits down, and Wesker slowly steps forward. He stops when he’s a few feet away from the large chair. “There have been…a couple of developments.” He replies, prompting Oswell to turn his head around towards the sunglass wearing man. 

 “Oh?” The old man raises a brow, “ Do tell .”

 Wesker straightens himself, folding his arms behind his back as the older man turns his attention towards him. “In the early hours of March twenty-sixth, two of our patrol officers were found dead.” He sucks in a breath, “Since that night, many of our patrol officers who were assigned to the night shift at the Arklay Facility have been reported missing or found dead. Several of their bodies were found in the surrounding woods either strewn about or left in their vehicles. For the bodies that we were able to recover, they were all mangled beyond recognition. The cause of the attack was unknown, but the condition of the bodies are the exact same as the ones recovered from the Training Facility. They were all eaten.” He pauses, then adds “Some more than others.”

 Oswell looks away from him, resting his head against the cushion of the chair. “How many?”

 “As of today, seven are dead, two are missing.” Wesker replies.

 The old man is quiet after this, taking in this new information. Seven dead men; with a high probability of that number being higher. All of their bodies mutilated and devoured — no way to tell what happened to them. No proof of what occurred each time a man was slain, but deep down he has a feeling he knows who’s been eliminating some of his pawns. It’s her — it must be! Does his prodigy feel it, too? “Do you think it’s her?” He asks, breaking the silence as quick as it came.

 ‘I know it’s her.’ Wesker thinks to himself, but he quickly pushes the thought out of his mind to answer the other. He doesn’t want the man to know everything he himself has since come to know.

 “I do. Unfortunately, I have no definitive proof. I contacted the Arklay Facility’s Chief of Research to inform him and his patrolmen to keep an eye out, but they have not reported any suspicious activities, nor have they reported any more deaths or missing persons in the past three weeks.” He explains.  

 The sound of the fire crackling and the rain pouring outside fills the room again; tension gripping the air as he waits for Oswell to answer. His silence is deafening, intimidating even, but not for someone like Wesker. This frail old man could have him and his entire existence snuffed out in the blink of an eye; he’s seen it happen multiple times over the years, but he’s not afraid of such circumstances. If Oswell wanted to get rid of him, he would have done it by now. He’s been kept close by the old man’s side for practically his entire life, so that means Wesker is perfectly fine with keeping up appearances until he can detach himself from this parasitic creature. It’s been in the works for a while now — his escape from Umbrella — and he’s never been more eager to leave this godforsaken company. It disgusts him to see a man as powerful as Oswell so feeble, constantly working off of the backs of others and putting his own company to shame. As if he has the right to be interested in a specimen such as Erica. He’d just squander away the opportunities like everything else in this company. Pathetic . Then, the elderly man’s voice cuts through the tense air, low but serious.

 “Is there anything else you’d like to share?”

 Wesker swallows dryly before answering. “The productivity of her secretary position began to drop from early to late March, and when I confronted her about it she said something rather peculiar.” He says, and Oswell turns his head to eye him from the corner of his eye, intent on knowing what the woman’s response was. “She explained to me that around a year ago she developed a rare medical condition. A condition with symptoms of recurring headaches, fevers, and extreme bodily pains. I asked her if she’d had this condition tested, and she said many times. However, when I looked through her medical records there were no traces of her even being remotely near a hospital in the past decade.”

 Oswell takes in this information, and he’s never been more content to hear it. Finally! Something worth discussing other than dead expendables. “Interesting…” Oswell murmurs, beginning to stroke his chin in thought. ‘‘A rare medical condition,’ she says.’ He thinks, and he has to stop himself from letting out a chuckle. ‘A red herring — she admits there is something going on, but in an entirely inconspicuous way — how smart of her.’ The old man knows that those symptoms could fall under any illness or disease, but after all of his years of research and study, he is very well aware that these are also symptoms of the T-Virus. These symptoms in particular are in the beginning stages of infection, just before the host submits to the virus. Does that mean she was only recently infected? How can that be if she claims it began over a year ago? None of this makes any sense; there must be something she’s intentionally leaving out. 

 “What’s your next move?” He inquires, prompting Wesker to bring up his plans currently in the works — plans he’s sure Oswell will find satisfactory. 

 “I believe the only way to catch Miss Slater in the act is to put her in a situation that would involve combat.” He states. “That being said, I’ve made plans to incorporate her into the S.T.A.R.S. Division, and through this method I’ll be able to keep a close eye on her and detail any changes I find.” He finishes, but not before adding that the plan has already been set in motion. “Her certification is being forged as we speak, and Raccoon’s Chief of Police should have it ready for me by Friday.”

 Oswell nods, satisfied with this plan. Yes, yes , this plan will surely work, and he has good faith in his prodigy to make sure that it’s seen through. He’s always been an excellent specimen, much like his “sister,” Alex Wesker. Speaking of Alex, as her name crosses his mind, he makes a small mental note to get in contact with her as soon as possible. Surely she’d find this information just as interesting as he does. It’s been a while since the last time they spoke; perhaps he could invite her to come for a visit.

 “Good. Good…” He says, brushing off his previous thoughts for now. 

 After a short pause, he turns to Wesker one last time. “You may take your leave now, Albert. This storm makes me grow tired, but you’ve given me much to think about.” 

 Wesker nods, loosening his arms so they fall to his sides. “Yes, sir.” 

 With one swift turn, he heads in the direction of the double doors he entered through not too long ago. Once he reaches them, he grabs one of the door’s handles and pulls it open. He steps through and closes it behind him, and after the soft ‘click’ of the handle’s mechanism hits his ears he starts walking away. Many, many thoughts are on his mind; running so rampant that he isn’t sure if he just has a lot on his mind or he’s slowly on his way to a mental asylum. The meeting he just shared with Spencer eased some of his thoughts, however, eliminating any doubt that his plan will work. The old man has become far too comfortable with Wesker’s ‘loyalty’ for far too long, and now that he has it will be all the more easy to lie to him without flinching. It will be far easier to escape this deteriorating company, and seeing as Spencer can’t even stay awake for a short meeting, Wesker is sure it’ll be a walk in the park. When he leaves this company, he’ll walk right into a new one with higher pay, alongside holding valuable information that would make that pay even higher. Until the right opportunity arises, all he has to do is continue putting up the same front he’s been putting up for his entire life.

 ‘Yes….’ He thinks, just as he passes through the threshold of the front entrance, ‘...Just a little longer.’

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃ May 8th, 1998.
TIME: ┃08:56:22 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

“Miss Slater, may I speak with you in my office?”

 Upon the inquiry leaving his lips, her stomach instantly tightens and her muscles tense. Her eyes lift up from the paper on her desk to make contact with the blonde standing underneath his office door frame; he’s watching her intently, waiting for a reaction or some sort of response to come out of her mouth. She anxiously swallows, immediately worried about what he could be calling her into his office for. What does Wesker want this time? Is he going to reprimand her again? …Or something worse? Before she asks herself any more questions she stands up, pushing out her desk chair with the backs of her legs. She turns and walks towards him, making him promptly step back so he can allow her to step into the small room. She quickly moves past him, careful not to curl her nose up in disgust at the sight and scent of him. His stench reeks of musk and sterile chemicals, and her stomach gurgles with nausea. Ugh… She can feel his eyes burning into her as she finds a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, and it sends a shudder down her spine. 

 Chris watches her, too, immediately wary about what Wesker intends on discussing with her. It could be anything, and after all that’s happened and all that he knows about Wesker, he’s positive his “Captain” has something sinister in mind for Erica. Chris isn’t just making assumptions based on first glances, either; he knows exactly what kind of man Wesker is. He knows his position as one of the S.T.A.R.S. Captains is all just a facade, and because he knows all of this he doesn’t have a good feeling about watching Erica enter his office.

 After Erica is seated, Wesker closes the door and steps over towards his desk. He sits down, and when he looks at her expecting face he clears his throat. “I’m sure you remember our last conversation about your performance.” He says, and when he says this she’s hit with a wave of realization. Well, she did guess right as to what he called her in here for, but what is it this time? Is she having issues with her productivity again? She thought she was doing better — has she not? “Yes, sir. I do remember.” She says, “I also remember you saying it was ‘lackluster.’”

 The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement, tickled that she remembered the exact term he used. He holds back a chuckle to move on to his point. “Well, I’m glad to inform you that it has greatly improved.” He states, and she feels a sense of relief wash over her. Thank God . At least she’s not here to hear him give her shit again…

 “However,” He starts, putting a stop to her sudden reassurance, “I also regret to inform you that your position isn’t going to be needed anymore.” 

 The small office falls silent after he says this, and she repeats the words in her head a few times to make sure she isn’t just imagining things. ‘Your position isn’t going to be needed anymore.’ What the hell does that mean? Does that mean she’s being fired? Why is she being fired? “I’m sorry?” She questions, hoping he’ll elaborate before her imagination can get the better of her.

 Watching her facial expression instantly change from relief to disbelief makes him feel instant gratification, aroused by the sheer look on her face. That deer in the headlights look; surprised and frozen, unable to move out of the way of the oncoming collision. He’s seen it on her face many times, and just like all the times before he’s going to love seeing that same look on her face when he exposes her in front of everyone. They are all going to see the monster that she truly is, and when they do he can’t wait to see that delicious expression spread across her features. “Oh, you have nothing to worry about — you’re not being fired. You’re just being reassigned for backup rear security for the Alpha team.”

 The statement that leaves his mouth hits her like a freight train, and it takes her a moment to recover from the impact. She’s what now? “Excuse me?” She asks, confusion spread across her face. 

 “You’re — ” He’s just about to repeat himself, but before he can do so she interrupts him. “No, I heard what you said perfectly fine. I’m just confused as to why I’m being assigned to that position.” She tries to force back an awkward laugh, but it comes out anyway. The sheer ridiculousness of this conversation has her absolutely stunned, because why would she be chosen for a position like that? She has no military training or any kind of experience with combat — but Wesker seems to think otherwise. Does that mean he’s on to her? Shit . 

 “I-I have no military experience whatsoever.” She blurts out, stumbling over her words.

 He’s elated to watch her struggle to find her words, utterly flabbergasted by this new development. It takes all the will power inside of him not to laugh at her dumbfoundedness, and he continues on with elaborating more information with her. “It won’t be necessary. I’ve been authorized to train you in weapons and hand to hand combat myself.” He explains, but not before following up with: “Your new uniform should be ready in your locker, and you should expect your training to start at the beginning of next week.” He swivels his chair backwards to reach for one of his desk drawers, pulling it open and taking out her employee file. A slip of paper is removed and placed on the desk in front of her before he grabs a pen from his pen holder, laying it on top of the printed sheet. “All I need you to do is sign this paper telling me that you acknowledge this conversation and you agree to the terms.”

 Erica looks down at the paper, wary of what this might mean for her. She gives the sheet a quick glance over, making sure that she won’t be signing anything that could lead to her being owned or indebted to Umbrella in any way, shape, or form. She doesn’t want to risk them getting one over on her because of some kind of legality , and luckily for her they won’t. The paper is exactly what Wesker says it is: an acknowledgement. However, whether it’s an acknowledgement or an agreement or whatever, she doesn’t trust this. This feels like a trap, but she can’t just outright refuse the offer; she’ll lose her job, and she actually likes working here. It’s not the best, most spectacular job in the world, but she enjoys having something to do alongside getting to interact with the S.T.A.R.S. members and other employees of the RPD. Why don’t they need her secretary position anymore? What exactly is going on that they would need her as a certified S.T.A.R.S. member? Why her of all people? 

 Erica Slater — a S.T.A.R.S. member — that wasn’t exactly on her Raccoon City bingo card. She doesn’t know why she’s being promoted to being a security officer, but she doesn’t have a good feeling about it. Wesker is planning something; she just knows it. “I…don’t know what to say…” She murmurs, still in disbelief as she stares at the paper. 

 Wesker leans back in his chair, observing her hesitancy. It’s understandable someone of her standing would question why they’d be chosen for such a position without any experience, but he knows better. He knows this woman is capable of far greater destruction than she lets on, and he wants to see it for himself. “You don’t need to say anything, Miss Slater.” He replies, eyeing her intently. “If you’re worried about what your new duties are, they will be gone over with you the day you start your training. Your office duties will remain the same — you simply have a new title you work under.” 

 She chews the inside of her lower lip as she contemplates her decision. This might just be a ruse for Wesker to capture her or expose her in some kind of way, but she knows better. James Marcus is supposed to leak the T-Virus in just a few days, and she needs to be present when the S.T.A.R.S. members are sent into the Arklay Mountains to investigate the “murders” that follow. That’s the entire reason she’s here — to look out for and protect the S.T.A.R.S. members and anyone else that could fall victim to Umbrella’s crimes. That has way more importance than Wesker’s desire to know what she is, and at this point, he probably already does if he’s asking her to join the team. What more does she have to lose? “Okay…” She mutters, leaning forward to grab the pen and sign the document. Once she does, she lays the pen on the desk and looks at him. “Thank you.”

 He watches her as she does so, giddy to witness her signature appear across the dotted line. Just like taking candy from a baby . “Of course, Miss Slater.” He nods, promptly sliding the document towards himself so he can put it back in her file. “That is all the information I have for you for today, so you are free to return to your desk. ”

 Erica doesn’t waste any time getting up from the leather chair and stepping towards the office door. When she exits the small room, she heads straight for her desk. She sits down, outwardly acting as if nothing just occurred or was talked about in that cursed office. On the inside, however, she’s worried; worried about what this new position could bring. It might be the key to obtaining her goal, but it might also be the key to her downfall if she isn’t careful. 

 Whatever it is, she’ll just have to wait and find out for herself.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃███.
PLACE: ┃█ ███, ████.
TIME: ┃█:██:██ ██.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

  AHHHHH!

 Her head instantly whips around at the sound of a horrified scream, and the moment she gets a glimpse at her environment, she knows exactly where she is. This is the Arklay Laboratory — Basement Two to be exact. She can see the giant ‘B’ and ‘2’ spray painted into the wall in front of her, but before she has the chance to do anything else someone is pushing past her, violently shoving her to the side. She doesn’t get a good look at the person at first, but when the man stops and frantically starts trying to remove his lab coat, she immediately notices small, black bodies latching onto the back of his coat. Leeches . She gasps as the man screams in terror, suddenly overcome with a barrage of leeches until he begins toppling over the side of the rail and down to the stairs below. She can hear the distinct ‘crunch’ of his neck, snapping as it hits the concrete. Another scream hits her ears, and she turns around to see many more scientists desperately trying to escape the sea of leeches chasing them down.

 Erica’s heart starts racing, and she takes off running down the hall, around the bend, and down the steps. She passes by the man who just fell to his death, now being fed on by the parasitic monsters. One of the putrid parasites lifts itself up to look at her, spreading apart its tiny teeth to let out a shrill shriek. She makes a face of pain at the ear piercing sound before she shoves through a set of double doors to enter Basement Three, and once she does, she’s only met with more chaos on the other side. She spots a female scientist running towards her, and upon approaching Erica the woman falls to her knees in front of her. “Help Me…” She gurgles, reaching towards Erica right before she vomits out a group of leeches. Erica steps back, covering her mouth as the revolting creatures drip from the scientist’s lips. The scientist lets out a shout of pain, throwing her head backwards as she cries out. Once she notices what’s wrong with the woman, Erica’s eyes prickle with tears. The leeches…they’re inside of her. Nausea bubbles in her stomach at the sight, watching as the blood-suckers writhe around underneath the woman’s skin. 

 The poor woman tries to say something else before the monsters burst out of her body, spilling out onto the floor covered in blood, guts, and other organs. She falls over and dies; her body still moving as the leeches try to escape from underneath her. Erica turns away in disgust, and she treads further into the infested facility. She steps into a room with a row of incubation tubes in the center of the room; the walls lined with consoles and computers alike. She knows what this room is as soon as she sees it — it’s the main lab of the facility.

 On the far right of the room, there’s a giant incubation tube holding a large, terrifying monster. A Tyrant. Upon seeing the tall, deformed figure, Erica swallows nervously. She had never seen this Tyrant model the last time she was in Raccoon City, and in her personal opinion it’s far scarier than Mr. X, another Tyrant model. The grotesque Tyrant’s lidless eyes make it appear awake inside of its liquid-filled chamber, and its face wears a permanent smile, forced to grin forever due to having no lips. Its appearance is pale and veiny; complemented with bulbous sores infesting its right thigh, a massive heart dead in the center of its chest, and a black, leathery armor coating its left shoulder. The black hue travels down the left arm to end at a huge, misshapen hand with sharp claws. A shudder runs down her spine at the sight of it, but her attention is pulled away from the monster when someone shouts at her.

 “What are you doing?! Why are you just standing there?! RUN! ”

 The next thing she knows someone is pulling on her arm, taking her back the way she had just come in order to escape the impending danger. She’s yanked until they’re up on the first basement level, the very end of the corridor leading up to the entrance to the mansion. She can see the gate leading into the mansion just up ahead, but before they reach it she stops. She suddenly feels her heart start to race more than normal, and she starts to sweat profusely. Her throat dries up, and there’s a pestering itch crawling up her spine. When she reaches around to scratch it, there’s a fiery pain that follows the scratch. She swallows dryly, and her heart drops into the pit of her stomach when she realizes the cause of the reaction. She’s infected. She’s infected!

 “Geoffrey? What’s wrong? Why are you stopping?!” The man in front of her asks, and when she looks down at her hands she realizes that they’re not her hands. They’re a pair of hands that belong to a man, and when she finally registers what’s going on she looks back up at the scared scientist in front of her. His name tag reads John Clemens, and she recognizes his name from the first Resident Evil game. He was the Chief of Research at the Arklay Laboratory before it was infected with the T-Virus, and, unfortunately, he was infected with the virus, too. Her head starts to hurt as she thinks about it so she shakes her head, brushing off the thoughts of death and infection. She and John are going to be okay. She’s not infected — she’s not! “I-I’m fine.” She lies, “I guess I’m just not in my right mind.” 

 “Now’s not the time to be fucking daydreaming!” John snaps, rushing towards the gate to unlock it. He’s shaking as he shoves in a large, hexagonal medallion onto one of the gates, and as soon as it settles into place an echo of heavy metal clicking together hits her ears. She’s about to step forward and escape with John, but something latches onto one of her legs before she has the chance. She immediately looks down to see several leeches traveling up her leg, and she lets out a scream. 

 Only — it’s not her scream — it’s the scream of the man she’s inhabiting. The sensation of many tiny teeth sinking into her skin and eating away at her flesh is enough to wake her, and she sits up in her bed with a scream. 

 She frantically looks around the room in terror, and through her distress she notices she’s in her room. It’s dark and quiet, and when she looks over to the alarm clock on her night stand she sees that it’s 5:19 AM. After realizing this she falls back onto her bed to stare up at the ceiling in the darkness. Her heart is still beating out of her chest, and she takes a few deep breaths to get her heavy breathing under control. After a few moments pass her eyes start to fill with tears, and she can’t help but to let out a pathetic sob. What the fuck was that? Why was she in that man’s body? He wasn’t a B.O.W., so how was she able to possess him like that? Was it even real? Is her mind playing tricks on her again?

 Before any more questions can form in her mind, her thoughts are interrupted by sudden screams; screams that collect as one, all crying out the same thing. H e l p. . . HELP. Help me. HeLp Me! HELP ME!!! She quickly covers her ears in an attempt to block out the howls of helplessness, but they only persist. The shrieks get louder and louder to the point where her eyes are flooded with tears, pained from the extreme sounds destroying her ear drums. Covering them is no use, and the sheer intensity of the frequency makes her swear to herself she can feel blood coming out of her ears. She curls into the fetal position as she cups her ears with her hands, crying to herself as her ears are assaulted. Then, as quickly as they had come, the screams come to an automatic halt. When the room falls silent, she slowly uncovers her ears and sits up from her bed. She stares at her bedroom window leading out into the fire escape, and strangely she feels the strong urge to go outside — like something is calling out to her.

 Crawling off of her bed and stepping over to the window, she unlocks it and scrambles through the small window frame. She carefully places her bare feet onto the metal platform, and once she’s fully outside she starts making her way up the stairs leading to the roof. After she reaches the top, she peeks her head over the edge of the roof to scan the top of the building. There’s no one there, prompting her to climb on up and step onto the roof. She folds her arms, hugging herself as she walks around and inspects the area. The concrete roof is cold underneath her feet as she walks to the edge, looking over and down to the city below.

 So what is she up here for? What called her here? What is —

 HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

 Erica turns her attention towards the source of the laughter; far off in the distance, echoing off of the trees of the Arklay Mountains. That laugh — 

 She knows precisely who that annoying, nasal laughter belongs to. It’s James Marcus, and from the sounds of it he’s bellowing out a laugh of satisfaction, as if celebrating an accomplishment. It fills her with a sense of dread, because she knows exactly what that means. It means that he and his leeches must have finally achieved what he’s so desired these past ten years; he’s finally getting his revenge on Umbrella. 

 Unfortunately, it also confirms what her fears for the past six months have been building up for. It means the worst of what’s to come has just begun…

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃ May 11th, 1998.
TIME: ┃06:04:48 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

After getting dressed in her new uniform, Erica steps over to get a good look at herself in the body mirror placed on one of the walls in the S.T.A.R.S. breakroom. Her uniform consists of a black short sleeve undershirt with a S.T.A.R.S. emblemed teal vest, along with a pair of khaki pants and brown military boots. She’s also wearing a pair of fingerless gloves and a gun holster belt, accessorized by a couple of extra hip pouches. She has straps going over her shoulders to hold her new S.T.A.R.S. issued knife, which is now in its new holster. Topping off her uniform is a beret with the S.T.A.R.S. emblem stitched into it to match her vest, with her hair styled in a low bun underneath it. As she stares at her appearance, she feels so strange seeing herself like this. She’s never taken herself as the military type, but seeing herself dressed up in an officer’s uniform has a surreal feel to it. Never would she have imagined that she’d be picked to be a S.T.A.R.S. member, but through her awe she reminds herself that this is just a trap.

 Wesker must have pulled some strings in order to make her a member, and considering Umbrella practically owns the whole police department — much less the whole town — it clearly wasn’t very hard for him to do so. Shit, when she signed the agreement Erica immediately noticed a familiar name among one of the signatures. Brian Irons . The Chief of Police himself signed off on it, no doubt bribed generously by the infamous pharmaceutical company to turn a blind eye to Erica’s fraudulent position. If someone like the Chief of Police could ignore such blatant fraud for a dollar, who else would stoop that low? There’s no telling how many people at the RPD are secretly employed by Umbrella, and seeing the Chief’s scribbled name on that paper that day made her rethink her approach. Umbrella owns everyone and everything, and unfortunately, she won’t have any upper hands while the company’s reputation is still intact. She decided that day that she’ll just have to go along with this little scheme Wesker’s conjuring up and see where it goes. Since then, she’s been thinking long and hard about how she’s going to go about her plan from here on out.

 When she first found out she was going to be assigned onto the Alpha Team, she was quick to tell Chris and Jill about it. Their reactions were just as confused as hers, if not more, and just like her they also questioned why and how Wesker could do something like that without anyone questioning it. Chris suggested that they confront him about the sheer absurdity of the situation; aside from the obvious fact that it could be a ruse to lure Erica into a trap, from a legal standpoint Wesker would callously be putting a civilian in danger. Jill reminded him that Umbrella has quite the hold on Raccoon City, and trying to expose any corruption would be like trying to square a circle — especially if their own police chief is accepting bribes behind closed doors. They ended up telling her they’ll talk to Barry and see what he has to say, and the best they could do was advise her to keep her guard up for now. She’s glad they told her that because she’s going to need it for her upcoming training session — the one she’s currently getting ready for.

 She takes one last glance in the mirror before she decides now is the time to report to Wesker for training; a thought that makes her lip curl in disgust. Every time she has to speak or interact with that man she feels sick to her stomach, and now she’s going to have to do both to make it through training. Ugh… Her stomach gurgles in agreement, but when she takes a few steps forward a sting surges through her abdomen. She stops and makes a hiss of pain, reaching down and clutching her stomach. The pain persists, traveling up her body and to her chest; the bones of her ribcage suddenly feel like they’re on fire, singing the flesh around them. Her eyes start to swell with tears, and a whimper of pain slips past her lips before a voice calls out her name from behind. Erica…

 It feels as if for a split moment complete and utter fear replaced her pain, and Erica immediately spins around to see who just spoke her name. No, it can’t be. Her heart starts to pound inside of her chest, beating so hard against its boney prison that it’s the only thing she hears. Her eyes hysterically dart around the room, searching for it . For Sol . 

 Her fearful gaze lands on the mirror, and she catches a fleeting glimpse of Sol’s reflection. She gasps, stumbling backwards at the sight of it. What the fuck? Did she really just see —

 When she looks at the mirror again, its reflection is now gone. She glances around the room to make sure it’s not anywhere else, and when she doesn’t see it she bites the inside of her lip. Did that really just happen? Was Sol really just here? 

 After a few moments pass she notices that the intense pain in her body has now dissipated, and she surmises it must have died down after Sol disappeared. That could only mean it made an appearance to remind her of something, and the only thing that comes to mind is that she needs to feed. It warned her if she didn’t feed it would take control, and she can still remember the sinister grin it gave her when it told her. She becomes hot with worry at the idea of not having control over her own body, but she shakes it off. That won’t happen. No — she won’t let it happen . Her stomach bubbles with fatigue, and she sighs. She has to do something about her hunger, though — pronto — and that means she has to go hunting. She may think it might not be a good idea, but hopefully with Umbrella’s new problem underway she can steal a meal or two without being detected.

 She brushes off her thoughts for now, instead focusing on her upcoming training session. Wesker is probably already looking for her, wondering where she is, so she decides to get moving before he finds her standing around doing nothing. She walks around the corner to exit the breakroom, and she presses the push bar as she passes through one of the double doors leading out. 

 Just as she leaves the breakroom, she turns her head to the right and spots Wesker heading directly towards her. ‘ Speak of the Devil .’ She thinks. 

 As his eyes lay on her, he almost stops in his tracks at the sight of her. Seeing her all bulked up in a uniform compared to her casual work clothing is so strange, and he has to stop a chuckle from slipping out. It’s amusing to see her play dress up and pretend like she’s one of her fellow S.T.A.R.S. members, but all jokes aside he knows this is just a facade. He’s very much aware of what she’s been up to — and it all came to a head this morning when he received an email from Umbrella’s Headquarters. A company wide email was sent out detailing an incident that occurred within the Arklay Laboratory involving the Epsilon strain of the T-Virus, and reportedly exposure is unknown. It was stated the virus was released via an experiment gone wrong, but Wesker doesn’t believe that. He believes Erica had a hand in the viral spill, and for her to have the audacity to stand before him and act as if nothing is going on sickens and impresses him all at the same time. He keeps his gaze fixated on her as he clears his throat. “Are you ready, Miss Slater?”

 “Yes, sir.” She says, nodding. 

 “Good.” He replies, turning away from her to head back towards the way he just came. “Now follow me.”

 She follows him down a corridor, a couple of left turns, then a right, and finally to a set of double doors leading into a room lined with multiple shooting stalls. Far off on the wall beyond the stalls are a display of targets; obvious practice for the small indoor shooting range. A pair of sound proof ear muffs are designated to each stall, and Wesker approaches one of the stalls to grab a pair for himself. There’s already a gun prepared for Erica to shoot in the first stall, so she grabs the muffs hanging off the side to put them on. After she puts on the ear muffs she turns to Wesker for him to tell her her next move. 

 “Let’s begin.” He says once his ear muffs are on, and she picks up the gun. The bulky weapon is heavy in her hands, but it’s nothing she can’t handle. Holding a gun has and probably always will make her feel uneasy, but with Wesker teaching her how to properly use one maybe she’ll feel a little more comfortable with them. At least he’ll be useful for something . She takes a deep breath as she positions herself. ‘Alright. Let’s get this over with.’ Before she even puts her finger on the trigger, he interrupts her.

 “Stop.” He states, and she immediately furrows her brows. Stop? Stop for what? She hasn’t even started! She turns to look at him, and he peers down at her. “Your form is terrible.”

 It takes all the will inside of her not to sneer at him when the words come out of his mouth; instantly annoyed by his criticism. A snarky reply quickly comes to mind, but she bites her tongue. Unfortunately, part of teaching her how to use a weapon is also going to involve telling her she’s holding it wrong, shooting it wrong, etc.. If she wants to get through this session faster, she’s going to have to listen to the criticism — even if it is coming from him . “Do you mind showing me how to properly fire my weapon, then?” She asks, her tone of voice coming out more passive aggressive than she would have liked.

 Hearing her respond with such sudden annoyance tickles him; based on this response alone he already knows he’s going to enjoy getting underneath her skin, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “ Certainly .”

 When he moves behind her, she’s immediately on edge. The hair on the back of her neck stands up, anxious as his warmth comes close to her. Her body tenses and her muscles tighten when he reaches forward to place his hands on her upper arms. He shifts her arms up a couple of inches before removing his hands and gently pushing on her back to get her to lean forward. She does as she’s motioned to do, and after she’s leaned forward he retracts his hands. “Spread your feet apart just a little more.” He instructs, and she listens, shifting both of her feet to the side. He looks down and nods to himself. “Good. Now place your non-dominant foot forward and slightly bend your knees.” He says, and once again she does as she’s instructed. He observes her stance and then steps over to the side, folding his arms behind his back. “Fire when you’re ready.”

 She looks away from him to look at the target ahead of her, and she notices that there are two options for her to shoot: the head or the chest. She decides to go for the head first, pulling the trigger and firing off three shots. She then moves to the chest and does the same thing, firing off three more shots. 

 Wesker turns to look at the target to see how she did, and he raises his brows at the sight of it. All six of her shots hit the dead center of their respective bullseyes, and seeing this baffles him. For her to have initially had such terrible form holding the gun, it surprises him to see her use it and not miss, much less make six bullseyes. When Erica notices the indentions in the paper, she can’t help but be surprised, too. She’s probably only shot a gun less than ten times in her life so she was expecting herself to miss or shoot somewhere else on the paper, but seeing the accurate shots makes her feel a sense of pride. Wesker turns to her, and at first she believes he’s going to say something that will ruin her small bout of self-esteem, but to her shock he compliments her. 

 “I wasn’t aware you could shoot so well.” He states, and she awkwardly laughs. “Me either.”

 He falls silent for a moment before an idea comes to mind. Perhaps if the target was moving it wouldn’t be so easy for her to shoot, prompting him to step over to the side towards a small electric panel. He reaches up to press a button, and once he presses it a loud buzzer goes off in the back of the room. A mechanical whir stirs up, and when she looks at the target she notices that it’s now moving, alongside the rest of the other targets. Her target moves forward then backward, repeating the same cycle when it reaches either end of the room. 

 Wesker stands behind her, and he folds his arms behind his back again. “I want you to fire just like you did before, but this time shoot to the sides of the head.”

 Erica gets back into the stance he instructed her to stand in before firing off several more rounds. Wesker watches her as she fires, and due to the kick back of the gun he catches a glimpse of something peeking from underneath her vest’s collar. He can barely see it, but as he takes a step forward he can see it more clearly. The fabric shifts again from her firing, and underneath it there are a sequence of numbers tattooed into her skin — 27700. Beneath the set of numbers are what look to be dark lines resembling that of a barcode, but he can’t see enough of it to definitively say it is one. Even though he can’t see it, he doesn’t need to see the whole thing to know what it is. He knows that this is the mark of an identification number; one of Umbrella’s signature identification numbers to be exact. 

 Seeing the tattoo sends his mind into a frenzy, instantly causing all kinds of questions to form. How has he not seen that before? Has she always had that? Does that mean she really was one of Umbrella’s test subjects? If so, why couldn’t he find her amongst the many names listed in Umbrella’s records when he’d looked the first time? He’d gone through the company’s testing data months ago in search of her, but his search ultimately came up fruitless. Was he simply looking in the wrong place? Was she a test subject that belonged to a different facility? He doesn’t have the chance to come up with any more theories before she turns and faces him.

 “How’s that?” She asks, waiting for his approval.

 Wesker looks forward at the moving target to see that she’d done exactly as he’d told her. There are three shots on either side of the head, indicated by the trio of holes on both sides. Even with the target moving she’s proven herself to be an excellent shooter, but her precision means nothing to him now given what he just saw. With this new information he intends on committing himself to another search through Umbrella’s records, and this time he has a number to identify her with. He decides to set these thoughts aside for now, instead focusing his attention on finishing out the remainder of their training session.

 “Perfect.” He says, stepping over to the next stall. “Now, onto the next one.”

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Arklay Mountains, Raccoon City Forest.
DATE: ┃ May 14th, 1998.
TIME: ┃12:34:08 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It’s quiet tonight; so quiet that even the crickets are silent, refusing to play their usual symphonies. There’s a dark, foreboding evil lingering around in these woods, and it’s sickly — infecting the forest with something sinister. The creatures that live in it know it, keeping themselves quiet as they hide away. They’re all afraid of what has happened to their home, and now they’re too scared to even come out in the dark hours; terrified that if they go out to eat they’ll be eaten instead. As she treads through the woodland area, Erica can’t help but relate to them, feeling a fear of her own the deeper she walks into the forest. Through the darkness and the sea of trees, she can sense the evil infecting it lurking around. She can feel it all around her, moving from place to place in search of something else to infect. It could be James Marcus or something worse, and she hopes she won’t get the pleasure of running into him or any other awful things that might be skulking through the thicket. She shudders at the thought, pushing onward before the smell of a cigarette stings her nostrils. 

 Underneath the stench of smoke is the scent of human flesh, drenched in sweat from the humidity saturating the air. It causes her stomach to gurgle loudly, eager to finally feast on what it’s so desperately craved for weeks now. Her mouth waters with hunger while her heart starts to race, energized by the sudden discovery. She wastes no time pressing forward, following the trail of scents until she comes across a vehicle sitting in the middle of a dirt road. It’s a black SUV, and from where she’s standing she can see the license plate. Smack dab in the middle of it is the signature Umbrella emblem, and upon seeing it she can feel herself practically drooling. Perfect.

 There’s a couple of men walking around outside the vehicle, and when she looks closer she notices that the men are wearing bulkier uniforms compared to the guards she’s eaten before. Not only do they have bulkier uniforms, but they’re wearing military grade helmets instead of hats, and instead of a basic pistol they’re now armed with assault rifles. She frowns at this, wondering if eating them is worth the hassle. Her appetite seems to think so, aggressively urging her to step forward. 

 As she does so, her stomach starts uncontrollably clenching and unclenching itself. An intense heat engulfs her chest, gripping her heart with fiery fingers before moving to her lungs. This causes her breathing to become fast and rigid, and a migraine to conquer all migraines emerges as she stumbles forward. Through her painful daze she reaches up to touch her forehead; her skin burning underneath her touch. It isn’t long before her hair is falling from her head — burning away into ash before it even touches the ground. Long, snakelike tendrils replace her white locks as a tail grows forth from behind her, adorned with a sharp, bony tip. A pair of ribs underneath both of her breasts emerge from her skin, and she covers her mouth to prevent a scream from leaving her trembling lips. Her skin changes to the usual variety of colors; a veiny purple with a hint of blue, while her hands, feet, and the tips of her tendrils and tail are a deep, bloody red. Long nails extend from her fingers while her teeth sharpen, and she hunches over as a muffled groan fights to leave her lips. 

 One of the armed guards turns around as she does, and he looks off into the distance in the direction he heard the noise come from. It falls silent after that and he doesn’t hear anything else, but he swears he just heard something. With the rumors of supposed “monsters” escaping the Arklay Labs going around, any sound or movement has him completely on edge. He knows it’s just a rumor, but why else would they be out here with heavy artillery and more protection? Umbrella simply ordered them to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, but his superstitious attitude has him believing otherwise. He feels like they’re really out here to be used as bait, but he shakes off the grim thought. He glances over to his partner to make sure he isn’t just losing his mind. “Did you hear that?”

 His partner turns to him and then towards the direction of where the strangled sound had come from. He did hear it — whether he wants to pretend he did or not. Even though he doesn’t see anything, he knows they won’t be sure until they investigate. It’s creepy as shit out here, and much like his colleague he wants to get out of these damned woods already. It’s better to just get it over with; it’s probably just some deer anyway. “Yeah. I did. Wanna go check it out?” He asks, and the first guard swallows dryly, immediately uncomfortable at the idea of going to search the area. “N-Nah, man.” His voice cracks, “You go first.”

 The second guard scoffs at the other’s cowardice. He wonders how he even got this job in the first place, but then he remembers Umbrella will hire anyone willing to sign an agreement, including himself. “ Pussy .”  

 He leaves his cowardly partner behind and sets off for the area they heard the noise come from. He walks a short distance through the thicket, shining the light of his rifle around the woods. He walks past the vehicle and, to his unexpected surprise, he doesn’t see anything beyond the trees and greenery. He’s just about to turn back around and scold his idiot partner for pissing his pants over a little noise before he hears the shuffling of leaves overhead. He stops in his tracks, and he can feel the hairs on his neck begin to stand up. He holds his breath and slowly aims his rifle up towards the tree in front of him. He immediately notices a few leaves fall from the tree along with the sound of scurrying, and he can feel his heart start to beat faster. What the fuck was that? He shines his light up into the tree, and his eyes grow wide. He doesn’t even get the chance to react when he sees it — and the next thing he knows is nothing. He’s now dead, impaled through his head by Erica’s whipping tail. She raises him up into her hideout of leaves before sinking her teeth into the crane of his neck. After clamping down on his neck, she violently yanks a chunk of meat off of his body, chewing away at it before swallowing it with a satisfied grin. YuMmY! The neck has always been her fAvOrItE. 

 His fingers still twitch as she eats away at him, working her way from the neck down. She savors every single bite, slurping the blood on her lips as she consumes his flesh. She cleans the meat right off the bones of his ribcage, and just as she’s about to indulge in his intestines the sound of someone shouting stops her. 

 “Wilson! Where the fuck did you go, man?!” The lone guard asks, frantically searching the area for his now missing partner. Where did he go? Did he go for a piss for something? Or is he hiding in hopes of scaring him? God, he hopes not. He’s already scared shitless out here; he doesn’t need the literal shit scared out of him, too. He wipes away some of the sweat on his face, but it’s no use against the humidity. As he finishes wiping his face he hears something, and he freezes in place.

 “ I’m over here …”

 It’s Wilson! Or at least — it sounds like Wilson. There’s something off about his voice, though; like he’s in some kind of pain. This thought makes the guard immediately start running towards the sound he heard the voice come from, fearful something terrible has happened to his colleague. Wilson may be a grumpy asshole, but he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him. “I-I’m coming!” He yells. “Hold on!” He rushes over towards the area he thought he heard Wilson calling from, but when he arrives he starts looking around in complete and utter confusion. He thought he heard him here, so where is he? 

 The guard shines his light around in search of Wilson, but what he unfortunately finds instead is a dark red puddle pooling underneath one of the large trees. He steps closer, and when he inspects the puddle he notices what looks like a few pieces of meat laying in the middle of it. Nausea makes bile burn the back of his throat, and he feels like he’s going to vomit before he pauses. From above, a droplet of blood drips down into the puddle; the liquid rippling after making contact. His throat dries up as he shakily lifts the tip of his gun up, and his eyes widen in horror at the sight. It’s Wilson, and just by looking at him he knows he’s far from dead. Seeing a large, gaping hole in the middle of his head — directly through the military grade helmet — doesn’t compare to seeing his body disemboweled from the neck down to the bottom of his chest. It looks as if something was just about to rip into his stomach before it was interrupted, and this makes him clutch his weapon.

 Shit. He stumbles backward, and his heart starts to race. Shit, shit, shit . He turns around to run, but he’s stopped by the sudden appearance of a figure in front of him. He gasps and directs his flashlight towards the figure, but it’s gone. He furrows his brows with worry, terrified as to what’s going on. What the fuck is going on? What’s in these woods? Why is he here? Why did Umbrella send him out here? Were they already aware that there’s a monster?

 “ Help… ”

 As soon as the mimic of Wilson’s voice speaks from behind him, he takes off running, fueled by total fear. He doesn’t get very far — only getting about ten feet before falling victim to Erica’s fatal swipe. One of her claws slashes his throat, and he falls to the ground. He gurgles and gags, choking on the blood filling up his windpipe. He looks up to see if he could at least get a look at his killer before he passes, but no one comes into view. He continues to struggle until he seizes; and then he’s gone. Erica’s long tongue slips out from her purple lips to clean off her dripping claws, and she smacks her lips as she glances down at the guard’s body. She squats down to get ready to eat him — then pauses.

 There’s something watching her, and the moment she realizes it she looks over to see rustling bushes. Out steps a trio of large, dog-like animals, staring her down from a short distance away. They start growling, approaching her with their heads low. She watches them as they snarl and bare their teeth, but she isn’t scared. She knows she’s far scarier than they are. Their wet noses twitch as they smell her, and when they register her scent they recognize it as one of their own; a B.O.W.. Once they do, it’s as if the dogs revert back to their non-infected selves, whining and stepping towards her with their tails tucked between their legs. Instinctively, she reaches out to pet them; her nails retracting to a shorter length so as to not cut them. Her hands glide along their heads and backs, and she can feel their exposed, rotting flesh underneath her fingertips. They cry for her to help them; pained by the viruses eating away at their poor bodies.

 This makes her frown, and instead of pure, unrelenting rage, she now feels the utmost empathy. These poor animals were just innocent bystanders in a bid to get revenge on Umbrella — why do they have to pay for someone else’s mistakes? 

 The three of them let out a few more whines before she calmly shushes them, using her real voice to put them at ease. “Shhh, it’s okay.” She coos, shifting from a squat to sitting on her calves. “You’re okay.” 

 The trio responds by laying their heads on her lap, desperate for her to hold and save them. She continues petting them, watching them as they close what’s left of their milky eyes. Her lower lip trembles at the sight, and she tries her hardest not to let the emotion show in her voice. “It’s okay, babies.” She says, and from inside of her she can feel their pain. She can feel how scared they were before they were infected, crying out relentlessly for the dog keeper to save them — but nobody came. Nobody came for them in their most dire of needs. A tear falls from one of her eyes, and she knows now what she has to do. She can’t let them live like this, and it pains her to know they ever had to in the first place.

 “You’ve been so good .” She tells them, still calmly petting each of their heads. “But you have to go to sleep now, okay?”

 It seems as if they already know what she means, and they each let out a sigh of exhaustion before their bodies start to burn. The fire engulfs them whole, covering every inch of their rotting bodies. After their job is done the flames soon sizzle out, and the dogs’ flesh is replaced by piles of ash. The tears Erica was holding back immediately start flowing forth, and she begins sobbing over the deceased animals. They didn’t ask for any of this. They were just innocent animals at the wrong place at the wrong time, and they ended up paying for it.

 She throws her head back and lets out a heartbroken howl, causing birds within the vicinity to fly away from their perches. The flapping of their many wings doesn’t deter her, but the sound of the glass shattering does. She stops crying out, and her teary eyes look back at the SUV. She watches tiny pieces of glass fall to the ground, clinking against the side of the vehicle. All of the windows, including the front and back windshields, are all shattered. She stares at it for a moment then turns her attention back to the dead guard next to her. Seeing the Umbrella emblem on his sleeve instantly reverts her back to her violent nature, and she snarls. Down her fists come, pounding directly into the center of the helmet. Her fist cuts through the helmet and straight to the man’s skull, and she can feel the bone of his skull scrape against her hand. It doesn’t slow her down in the slightest; in fact, it encourages her, and she continues to land fatal blows until there’s nothing left of the head. It’s a pile of unrecognizable mush, squelching underneath her fists. Bits of brain matter fall from her fists when she comes to a stop; her body heaving with pure anger. 

 She stares at the mound of flesh and bits of helmet before leaning down and sinking her teeth into the body’s back. She starts tearing away at it, yanking and pulling with her hands and teeth to stuff her mouth full of human meat. She feeds and feeds until the entirety of the body’s back is gone, leaving the spine and ribcage partially exposed. When she shoves one last piece into her mouth, she sucks the blood off of the fingers sliding back out of her mouth. The last finger slips out with a satisfying ‘ pop ,’ and she runs her tongue over the front of her teeth. A burp forces its way out, signifying her contentment with her meal. She grins, but her grin doesn’t last for long. Her body takes her fullness as a sign to revert back to her human form, and she hunches over, groaning as she starts to change back.

 Her hair like tendrils and tail retract back into her body while her colorful, veiny appearance returns to her cool, pale skin. Her boney features merge back into her flesh, and her white hair grows out to cascade over her shoulders and down her back. She grunts as the transformation finishes, and when she stands she looks around at the damage she caused. Her clothes are ripped to shreds — again — and there are two dead guards and three cremated dogs… 

 A frown spreads across her lips upon seeing the pile of ash, and she turns away from the scene. ‘It’s best not to think about it, Erica. They were going to die anyway.’ She tells herself, trying to be reassuring but it ends up sounding more pessimistic than anything else. She gazes up at the maze of trees ahead of her before setting off, heading in the direction of her car.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃ May 21st, 1998.
TIME: ┃05:58:19 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “ BREAKING NEWS! ” The television yells, prompting Erica to look up from the kitchen sink. “At around ten PM last night, officers were called after the discovery of a body on the bank of the Marble River. Citizens occupying Raccoon’s Cider district are concerned with the discovery, but Raccoon police have reassured that the victim may have been in fact attacked by a wild animal. Officers theorize the victim was attacked by a rabid animal while hiking in the Arklay Mountains and fell into the river, and they are hurrying to identify the victim.” The reporter says. “Our next case — ” He starts, but Erica doesn’t hear what he says next, drowning out the words to think about what he just said.

 The body that was found is only the beginning, and knowing that the citizens’ body count has already started makes her worry. What does she do now? She feels so lost knowing that no matter what she does to try to prevent the virus from escaping, it’ll still happen. Now it’s escaping to the public like she feared, and she wonders if there’s really anything she can do. She thinks back to her last hunt, and she recalls how she put those Cerberus to rest. She frowns as she thinks about them. Those poor dogs … They were so scared, and she remembers their pitiful whines. She can hear them now, and because of that she tries to brush off the idea. She doesn’t know if she can go through something like that again, but what choice does she have? If she wants to protect people, this is probably the only way she’s going to be able to do that. She’ll just have to start making regular visits to the Arklay Mountains and hope and pray that no one will catch her getting rid of B.O.W.s. Unfortunately, driving her car to and from the mountains might cause suspicion, so she might have to drive something smaller — like a motorcycle .

 Just as she starts thinking about getting a license to make that happen, there’s a faint knock at her door. 

 Erica raises a brow and places the dirty bowl in her hands back into the sink along with her soapy sponge in its caddy. She rinses off her hands before turning off the water. She then dries her hands, throwing the rag onto the counter and stepping over to the door. She looks through the peephole, and when she does she only sees the top of someone’s head. Wait a minute… That kind of looks like — She immediately pulls her face away from the door to unlock it, opening it to meet the face of Sherry Birkin. 

 Her brows furrow with confusion as she looks at the girl. What is Sherry doing here? Never mind that, how in the world did she know where she lived? Erica never told her, so how is she standing here on her doorstep? “Sherry? What are you doing here, sweetheart?” She asks.

 “My parents have been really busy — like, more busy than they’ve ever been, for over a week, and they haven’t been home much. I got lonely, and I also haven’t seen you in a while, so…” The girl trails off, slowly looking down to the floor. Erica purses her lips before stepping back and opening the door wide, allowing the girl entry inside. Sherry looks up, and she practically skips into the apartment; a happy grin spread across her face. Erica closes the door behind her as Sherry takes a gander around, impressed by the colors and trinkets decorating the apartment. ‘It. Looks. So. Cool!’ She thinks, trying her best to contain the excitement bottling up in her little body. Erica interrupts her inspection, curious to find out how she found her apartment. “How did you know where I live?”

 Sherry shrugs, not taking her attention off of Erica’s interesting interior. “Mom and Dad left your phone number and address pinned up on the fridge.”

 Erica folds her arms, now wondering how she was able to come up the stairs. Mr. Pines would have said something to her; a little girl he’s never seen before entering his building unaccompanied? He would not have let that slide. “How did you get past the front desk?”

 “I just gave the guy some money from the allowance I get from my parents.” Sherry replies, and the girl’s answer is enough for Erica to decide that that's all she needs to know. Now all she needs to do is leave a message for the Birkins’ to let them know where their daughter is. She doesn’t need a pair of angry parents on her doorstep accusing her of kidnapping their child, especially Annette and William. “Alright.” Erica sighs, “I just have to give your parents a call to let them know you’re here.”

 Sherry looks over at Erica; the expression on her face is melancholic. “They won’t care.” She mutters, turning away from the young woman. “ They’re too busy to care .”

 Erica frowns, saddened by the girl’s words. She’s fully aware of how neglectful the Birkins’ are to their daughter, and she hates that she hasn’t been around lately to help reduce the neglect. They just haven’t called her or let her know anything about Sherry, and the last time she babysat for Sherry the Birkins told her they won’t be needing her as much as they used to. She isn’t sure if it’s because of their suspicions about her or for other reasons entirely, but seeing the girl’s sad face makes her heart break. If she could take Sherry away from her parents, she would, but it’s easier said than done. 

 “I’ll still leave them a voicemail just in case.” She says, stepping over to the phone hanging off of the wall. “I don’t mind if you’re here, I just don’t want them to freak out if you’re not home. Okay?” She glances back over at Sherry who forces a smile. “Okay…”

 Erica nods and starts dialing the Birkins’ landline number, picking the phone off of the hook and pressing it to her ear. The phone starts to ring, and after a moment the automated voice on the Birkins’ answering machine starts to speak. “You’ve reached the Birkin residence, leave a message after the beep.” BEEP! “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Birkin, this is Erica Slater. I’m just calling to let you know that Sherry is with me at my apartment, and I have no problem with taking her home or you coming to get her. Please give me a call back when you can and let me know what you’d prefer to do as soon as possible, thank you.” She then puts the phone back on its hook, and when she does she turns around to look at Sherry. The young girl is still walking around the apartment, checking out the posters covering the walls and collectibles sitting on the shelves. 

 Erica inhales, “Okay, Sherry, I have to take a shower for work tomorrow, so are you gonna be okay keeping yourself occupied while I’m gone?”

 Sherry offers a quick glance back before going back to looking at a painting hanging up on one of the walls. “Yes, ma’am.”

 “The TV remote is on the coffee table, and I have plenty of movies on the shelf over there if you want to find something to watch.” Erica explains, and when she starts to head towards her bedroom she stops in her tracks. “Oh, and if you get hungry feel free to raid the fridge or the pantry.” She adds, “Bathroom is down the hall to the right.” 

 “Okay.” Sherry nods, not looking at her this time. Erica makes her way into her room, quietly closing the door behind her. She then steps into her bathroom, turning on the shower before reaching over and closing the door.

 As the muffled sound of the shower starts, Sherry continues looking through the apartment. Even though this is her first time being here, she only has to look at it one time to recognize it as Erica’s home. It’s exactly how she pictured it to look in her head, if not better. When she steps over to the TV, she eyes the shelf full of movies. There’s a whole bunch of them, from Sci-Fi, to Action, and even to Horror, which she notices that Erica seems to have a lot of. She moves over to the other side of the television to inspect the basket of records, but she doesn’t find anything that stands out to her. Her eyes travel to the hallway to her far right, and she can see that there’s a window and two doors at the end of it. She decides to walk to the end of the hallway, choosing to inspect the door to the right first. It’s a bathroom — just like Erica said — but she doesn’t really need to go right now, so she closes the door. 

 Sherry looks over towards the other door, and she can’t help but let curiosity get the better of her. She puts her hand on the handle and twists it, pushing it open and peering inside. The first things she notices are an easel and a large bookshelf, and when she opens the door further she sees a two drawer cabinet sitting next to a comfy looking chair. She walks inside, flicking on the light switch to take a look around. She eyes a few paintings set to the side; some of them are either unfinished or in the process of getting started. Her eyes shift over to the large bookshelf, and the first thing that catches her attention is a bright neon pink binder sitting on one of the shelves. She smiles and reaches for the binder in hopes of seeing more of Erica’s art, wondering if there might be any sketches or drawings inside. 

 What she finds, however, is not at all the art she was expecting it to be. As she looks down at the clear slip in the front of the binder, she immediately notices that there are a ton of pictures inside — pictures of Erica. She looks… different , though. She’s not as skinny as she is now, she has a nose ring, and her hair color is light brown instead of white. Sherry can see that Erica looks either sad or scared, and the only time she’s seen smiling in the pictures is when she’s with a man and a woman. She recognizes the man as Chris, that cute guy Erica was avoiding some weeks back, but she doesn’t recognize the woman. She realizes it doesn’t matter when she flips the slip over. The first document she sees is the initial report, and upon seeing Wesker’s name Sherry raises her brows. She wonders why his name is printed on this paper, so she reads on to figure out why. When she reads it over, she finds herself asking more questions with each sentence she reads. 

 Why is Wesker’s name attached to this document? What electrical phenomenon is he talking about? What even is that? Wait — Why is her mom’s name written here, and why did she take a blood sample from whoever this “Starr” is? What is all this? She continues to scan her eyes over the paper, reading that Umbrella went to kidnap “Starr,” but the first time they tried she escaped. Towards the end of the document, Sherry glosses over that their second attempt was successful, prompting her to turn to the next page to find out more. What happened to “Starr?”

 She only turns the page to discover that not only was her mom involved involved with the kidnapping, but her dad was involved as well, assigned as “Starr’s” secondary doctor. Why is her dad’s name here? What are her parents up to that they would be involved with something like this? She thought they just worked with simple chemicals at Umbrella’s chemical plant, why would they be involved in a kidnapping? She finds out exactly why when she looks at the following entries. The first entry doesn’t say much aside from “Starr’s” health status, but the second entry reveals that “Starr” isn’t even her real name. It’s Erica Slater. Sherry’s eyes widen at the realization, and she starts to mentally freak out. No , that can’t be right. It’s — It’s not true! She wants to deny it, but it’s right in front of her. There’s a picture of Erica to support the entry, and the young girl can feel her lower lip start to tremble. Umbrella, Wesker, her mom, her dad — they all kidnapped Erica, and as she flips to the next display of entries she finds out why they did. 

 After they kidnapped her, they experimented on her with different kinds of viruses; some of them had no effect, while others made Erica severely sick. The girl finds out that due to these viruses, Erica ended up biting out someone’s throat, and when she discovers this she covers her mouth in disgust. There are pictures to accompany the damage, but she immediately slides over to the next set of entries before she sees anything. She feels like she’s gonna throw up, but she swallows it back down. What happened to Erica? Did she make it out okay? She has to be alive if she's here, right? Sherry quickly discovers that Erica, unfortunately, did not survive through testing, and that she actually died on her birthday — only to be resuscitated by some virus Sherry’s dad injected. She closes the binder before she reads any more of it, shoving it back on the shelf in its rightful, inconspicuous place. She hurriedly exits the spare bedroom, quietly closes the door behind her, and makes a bee line for the couch. She grabs the remote and starts flipping through the channels, hoping Erica will find her like this and not question a single thing. 

 Sherry knows she shouldn’t have read that binder, and now that she has, she’s worried about what’s going to happen when Erica finds out. Will she be angry? Will she eat her? Will she hurt her parents? As the thought of her parents crosses her mind, she starts worrying about what’s going to happen when she sees her parents, too. Will she see them the same? Will she be able to look at them without thinking about the things they’ve done? None of this makes any sense — from Erica’s difference in appearance, to the different dates listed in the documents, to her family’s involvement. She feels like her mind is spiraling trying to make sense of things, but her thoughts are interrupted by the door to Erica’s bedroom opening.

 Erica steps out with a towel on her head, and she gives the girl a smile when Sherry turns around. “Find anything to watch?” She asks, stepping over towards the couch. 

 Sherry’s heart starts to beat faster as the woman gets close to her, but she reassures herself that everything will be fine. ‘Just play it cool, Sherry.’ She tells herself, ‘This is Erica you’re talking about. She wouldn’t hurt you.’ She chooses to listen to her conscience, and she smiles back at her. “No, not yet,” She replies, “There’s nothing on.”

 “How about a movie?” Erica asks, and Sherry nods. “Yeah, sure, but I want you to pick.” 

 The young woman grins at her response and gets up to browse through her movie collection while Sherry stays back on the couch. She watches Erica as she searches through the movies, and as she observes the white haired woman she starts to think about all that Erica has done for her. Erica has always treated Sherry with kindness and respect, regardless of what her parents have done to her; she’s fueled her passion for art, cooked her favorite foods, read her her favorite stories, watched her favorite movies with her, helped her with homework, and much, much more. Erica has always gone above and beyond compared to her parents, and that alone is enough grounds for Sherry to ease up on her fears. 

 When Erica turns back around holding a movie, Sherry smiles. “You got any popcorn?”

 Erica smiles back, “You bet.”

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃ June 8th, 1998.
TIME: ┃09:01:18 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 The police department is lively this morning; filled with busy bodies going to and fro. The lobby, the halls, and even the stairs are filled with bustling employees, chittering about what’s been on everyone’s mind. Ever since the most recent murders, everyone has been speculating about what the cause of the deaths might be. Some people believe the cause of the attacks are either rabid animals or the work of a serial killer, while others seem to think there’s some kind of cult behind all this. Naturally, the rumors found their way to the S.T.A.R.S. office and into the ears of the S.T.A.R.S. members. That happened to include Wesker, but he doesn’t believe any of them. Not with what he knows; he knows it’s Erica behind all this. She’s the one leaving behind a trail of victims; at first it was only Umbrella’s expendables, but it seems she’s moved on to killing citizens. He isn’t entirely sure why she would decide to kill innocent civilians now, and his uncertainty has made part of him start to wonder if it’s something else committing these atrocities. It's possible that some of the infected faculty and test subjects have escaped from the Arklay Facility, but he knows better. He fully believes it to be Erica, but, like he has for the past six months, he has no definitive proof. 

 The only definitive proof he had to hold onto was the strand of hair he collected from her a few months ago. After placing it underneath microscopic observation, he was able to identify cells that looked similar to the T-Virus. He wanted to perform more tests to prove this, but hair samples aren’t as reliable as blood samples. He knew he needed to get a proper blood sample, but the opportunity never arose for him. Then, just a few weeks ago, he discovered a test subject’s identification number just below the back of Erica’s neck. The moment he saw it he wasted no time in searching up the number, but the results that came up were for a different test subject entirely. Instead of Erica, it was a man, and he died upon his first dose of the T-Virus. Wesker kept reading the entry over and over again, thinking it would change to what he so desired to see. It didn’t, of course, so he resorted to searching through subject files from different cities, states, and even other countries occupied by Umbrella, but he ultimately found nothing. There were no traces or signs of Erica ever being a test subject at all, and after days, weeks, and months of stressing over this woman he finally felt like he’d lost it. He had finally snapped after all this time, and it was all because of this woman . He leans back in his office chair and massages his temples; already feeling a headache coming on just from the thought of her.

 Speaking of Erica, as he takes a look around the S.T.A.R.S. office, he sees that she’s nowhere to be found. Brad is on the main computer; Richard is looking over his shoulder with intense interest. Edward, Barry, Chris, and Forest are going through weapons in the small armory room, loading up clips and magazines. Kenneth and Enrico are sifting through piles of recent murder reports while Jill and Joseph are reviewing witness testimonies. The only one missing is Erica, and upon realizing this he wonders where she went off to. She should be back by now — the walk to and from the lobby isn’t that far.

 Just a short while ago Wesker had asked her to head down into the lobby and retrieve the newest recruit for the Bravo Team; an eighteen year old girl named Rebecca Chambers. Although she’s significantly younger than the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. members, Rebecca’s exceptional resume and academic skill set easily landed her the position. At first, he was hesitant to hire her due to her age, but during the interview she had proven that her resume was true to its word. Her intelligence spoke for itself, and it didn’t take long for her to prove herself to be an excellent candidate. She was a bit too excellent — far better off in a prestigious lab somewhere — but nonetheless, he shook her hand and informed her she’d start the next week. 

 Wesker lets out a sigh and leans back in his office chair, debating if he should see what’s taking so long. It’s not hard to go to the lobby, retrieve someone, and report back with said person. He glances over at the clock on his computer, and it reads 9:05. Five more minutes and he’ll have to go down to the lobby himself. 

 As Erica enters the front lobby, she glances around before her eyes land on a young woman sitting in one of the waiting chairs. She has a short brown pixie cut, and she looks… oddly young — like a teenager. She’s currently dressed in civilian attire, but as Erica stares at her she comes to the realization that this must be Rebecca Chambers. Rebecca Chambers played a large role in the Resident Evil games, more specifically Resident Evil Zero, a prequel to the first game, as well as the first Resident Evil. Her role in the first game wasn’t as big as her role in the prequel, considering she was a side character instead of a main one. She was the Bravo team’s medic, specialized in the chemical aspect of healthcare. She was supposedly hired in early June prior to the events of the games mentioned, and as the thought crosses her mind she realizes what Wesker meant about ‘newest’ recruit. With the murders ramping up, she should have expected the girl’s arrival. She brushes off the thought and starts walking over, and as soon as she approaches the waiting area Rebecca immediately stands. The woman is wearing attire similar to a receptionist, but the S.T.A.R.S. emblem on her beret brings her to her feet. She holds her breath as the woman comes close; this is the moment she’s been waiting for, and she wants to make the best impression possible. 

 Rebecca eagerly shoves her hand towards Erica once she’s in front of her, a huge smile spread across her face. “Rebecca Chambers, reporting for duty, ma’am!” She chirps. Her over excited demeanor puts Erica off at first but she quickly lets it go, reaching her own hand forward to shake the girl’s outstretched hand. “Well, good morning , Miss Chambers!” She says with a grin, “How are you?”

 The southern twang from the older woman instantly makes Rebecca feel welcome, and she wonders how she got all the way to Missouri. She must have come far based on her accent, but she can worry about getting to know the other young woman later. Right now she needs to meet the person who hired her, and she lets go of the woman’s hand before answering. “I’m doing pretty good. How about yourself?”

 Erica lets go, too, and she feels a sense of relief at the normal interaction. It’s a nice change of pace compared to all the death and conspiracies. “I’m doing well myself,” She replies, “but enough about me, let’s go ahead and get you upstairs to the S.T.A.R.S. office. I’m sure you’re ready to get started.”

 “You bet.” Rebecca agrees.

 She feels her stomach practically flip, and she starts following Erica as she guides her up a flight of stairs and through a couple of doors before they reach a set of double doors. Those doors lead to none other than the S.T.A.R.S. office, and she feels giddy as she walks through. She looks around to see all of the established members already busy at work, and she already feels intimidated based on how serious they look. She quickly brushes it off, believing that if the young woman who retrieved her from the lobby is friendly — surely the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. members are just as friendly if not more. She turns her attention away from them to be led into an office to the left, where she meets a tall man with blonde hair and sunglasses. Wait — why is he wearing sunglasses inside? Nevermind, she’ll just ask the other S.T.A.R.S. members later. It might be a tough subject for him. She brushes her awe aside as the door closes behind her, and Erica returns to her desk once the click of the door follows Rebecca’s walk into the office. 

 The S.T.A.R.S. members immediately start whispering among themselves, just as they had done when Erica first started. “Who is that?” “We’re getting a new team member?” “How many more team members are we getting?” She brushes off the inquiries when Chris approaches her desk, a curious look written across his face. “Who’s the new girl?” He asks, and Erica looks up at him before answering. “Oh, her name is Rebecca Chambers. She’s the new recruit.” She replies, “She’s got a lot of enthusiasm.” 

 As the words leave her mouth, he immediately notices the slight frown at the corner of her lips. He knows that frown; she’s worried about something. He leans down with a sincere look on his face. “Are you okay?” He reaches forward to touch her hand, and when he starts rubbing his thumb against the back of her palm she faintly smiles. 

 Erica isn’t sure how to answer that; with the murders becoming more frequent, she’s been traveling to the Arklay mountains to get rid of threats to the public. It’s been hard to do since more and more keep popping up, whether it be due to citizens who keep venturing into the woods or Umbrella’s henchmen falling victim to B.O.W.S. Not to mention, she can’t always be present to get rid of her B.O.W. brethren. That being said, she tried to make it a little more convenient by traveling to and from the mountains via motorcycle. It was a little difficult at first, but once she got comfortable getting her license was relatively easy, and so far she’s found it far more convenient to hide than a vehicle. Even though she’s been doing all she can to stop the spread of the virus, she's worried it won’t be enough. She’s worried that everything she’s doing is just for nothing, and everything she’s fighting to prevent is going to happen regardless of what she does. She looks into Chris’s eyes, and she sighs in defeat. He always sees right through her, and she looks up at him before pursing her lips.

 “I’m just worried about the murders…” She answers, and he watches her solemn face. He takes her hand into his now, and he gives it a firm squeeze. “I am, too.” He agrees, pausing before he questions her. “Do you wanna talk about it? You could swing by my apartment tonight if you want…”

 She looks up at him, and she feels at ease at the offer. Words can’t explain how glad she is to have finally gotten over herself when it came to Chris. She was so afraid for so long of what he would think of her, but no matter what he’s continued to prove he genuinely cares about her. He knows she’s infected, and yet he’s never said anything about it. He’s seen what Umbrella did to her, and he’s never treated her any differently. He even chose to risk death by seizure just to get back his memories of her, and that alone proved to her that he does more than care about her — he loves her, unconditional and true. Erica returns his feelings, but it took a lot of time before she admitted it. When she first got here she wanted to eat him, and it scared her. It scared her that she could potentially hurt someone she loves, but it seems as if she, along with the virus, have come to let that go. She can relax around him without fear she’ll wake up and he’ll be dead, comfortable in her ability to control herself and the virus. Now that she is, she feels safe enough to go over to his apartment once in a while.

 “Yeah. I’d like that.” She says, and Chris nods. “Just give me a call before you head over. I may or may not have to spruce up the place a little.” He sheepishly responds, and she can’t help but giggle. “Okay. I will.”

 He grins before standing upright, and as her gaze follows him she mouths ‘I love you.’ He does the same and turns to return to the armory room, while Erica looks down to her own set of reports to sift through.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃ June 22nd, 1998.
TIME: ┃02:21:38 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 The jingle of Erica’s keys echoes through the stairwell of her apartment building, and midway through her search through her collection of keys something stops her. Her nose is suddenly hit with the scent of something — no, someone — familiar coming from underneath her apartment door. She remembers this smell, and the last time she got a whiff of it was a couple of months ago. The day of her birthday to be exact. She immediately starts looking for her key again, shoving it into the lock and unlocking the door. When she opens the door, she flicks on the light next to her to find someone sitting on her couch. She instantly recognizes it as Trent, and once he sees that it’s Erica he promptly gets up from his seat.

 Erica steps inside and closes the door behind her. She’s trying her best not to let her irritation show, annoyed by his unexpected visit. A moment of silence falls over the apartment until she speaks up. “What are you doing here, Trent?” She asks. Her tone of voice comes out as more of a command, and the older man can’t help but let a smirk pull at the corner of his lips. Her hostility never fails to amuse him, but he’s not here to be entertained. He’s here to warn her. “I’m just here to talk, that's all.” He says as he steps over towards her, but he keeps his distance. “I’m sure you’re aware of the murders in the papers.” 

 Erica folds her arms, keeping her eyes on him. “I am. What about them?” Is this what he wants to talk about? The murders? She already hears enough talk about it at work, she doesn’t really want to talk about it outside of work, too.

 “I’m here to tell you that Umbrella is planning on sending in a team to investigate the Arklay Mountains in a few weeks, and if you don’t want to risk getting caught I would suggest you hold off on your hunting for now.” He states, and his words make her frown. Nevermind the fact that he knows about her late night hunting; his statement about Umbrella sending in a team has much more priority. 

 ‘So, it really is happening…’ She mentally says to herself, thinking about what he just said. In the games, Umbrella decided to send out a team to investigate the Arklay Mountains in hopes of cleansing the area, but their plans were foiled when the team was killed and ultimately infected with the T-Virus. As the thought crosses her mind, she realizes July twenty third is coming faster than she can blink, and she wonders about what’s going to happen when that day finally comes. Will she be joining her fellow S.T.A.R.S. members into the mountains? Will she be able to save them? She hopes so, but as her mind lingers on the thought she considers if Umbrella is sending the S.T.A.R.S. into the mountains, they might see this as an opportunity to raid her apartment. She might just be being paranoid, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want that to happen and risk anything happening to her things — especially her experiment files. She glances at Trent again, and an idea suddenly forms in her mind. What if she gave her stuff to Trent? Would he keep them safe? Wait, what the hell is she talking about? It would be crazy of her to even think about giving it all to him, but what will she do if Umbrella does what her irrational fears expect? What then?

 She decides to relent to her thoughts, and she lets out a big sigh. “Okay.” She replies. “Thank you for telling me.”

 Trent nods, but he can see there’s something else on her mind — as if she has something to say as well. He chooses to call her out on it, wondering what’s on her mind. “Is everything alright, Miss Slater?”

 “I’m fine, I — ” She starts, but she stops herself. She should instead let everything speak for itself, and she decides to do just that. “Excuse me for a moment.” She holds up a finger before disappearing off towards her spare bedroom, retrieving the vial of memory serum, the big binder and the small binder, which are now covered with bright neon binder covers, and the device she can use to travel to and from the real world and Resident Evil. The rest of her belongings could simply be replaced, but she knows better than to let the items potentially fall into the wrong hands. She’s still unsure if she should give these things to Trent, believing he would also use her files and the device to his own advantage, but what other choice does she have? She doesn’t want to take any risks, and she knows his character to be very good at keeping things hidden — including himself. She re-enters the living room with the three items, and she places them down on her coffee table. He looks at the objects before glancing at her, and she takes this as a sign to fill him in as to what they are. “Both of these binders contain years worth of Umbrella’s testing records,” She elaborates, “with the biggest one containing records dating all the way back from 1967 to 1987.”

 Trent immediately raises his brows at her explanation, confused and in awe at the same time that she would even present him with something like this. Does she truly trust him enough to do so? Does she have any idea what he could do with this kind of valuable information? He could finally put Umbrella to an automatic end, and he’s elated to know he’s just one step closer. He notices the fabric covers wrapped around the binders, and he has to hold back a chuckle at how inconspicuous yet obvious it is. Even a smart man would look over the brightly colored disguises, and his attention directs to the smaller of the binders. She hasn’t stated what the small one holds. “What does the small one contain?” He inquires, and Erica frowns, unable to believe what she’s about to say next. “I want you to read it and find out.” 

 The older man stares at her after she says this, and he hesitates. What is that supposed to mean? Is this some kind of trap? Is this a —

 His thoughts suddenly come to a stop, and he realizes what this must be. No , she would never allow him to read something like that, but as she looks at him with a sure look on her face he has to know if it’s true. “Is it what I think it is?”

 She doesn’t say anything, and this causes him to reach forward and take the neon pink binder into his hands. He slowly opens it up, and he takes in everything he sees. He reads through the entries, examines the attached pictures, and memorizes the documents in his mind. Once he’s finished, he closes it and looks over towards her. At first, he isn’t sure what to say, struggling to gather his thoughts through his disgust and pity. His scientific mind is fascinated to learn the process of her infection, but he can’t help but focus on the other details. Erica was tortured, killed, and brought back to life to indefinitely live a life of being a trophy. All this time he wanted to know what her origins were and what happened to her, and now that he does he feels the utmost sympathy. “Miss Slater, I — ”

 Erica holds a hand up, interrupting him from saying anything further. “You don’t need to say anything.” She answers, “But I need you to do me a favor.”

 His previous thought comes to an end, and he puts the binder back onto the coffee table. He places his hands in his lap and gives her his full attention. Considering all the information she just provided him, he has no problem fulfilling whatever favor she desires for the next decade . “I’m all ears.”

 She bites the inside of her lip, fiddling with her fingers. “I…have a feeling things are only going to get worse, and I have no idea how it’s going to play out from here.” She then moves on to her point; a point she better not be wrong about. “That being said, I want you to take my belongings and keep them safe.”

 Trent furrows his brows, confused by what she’s asking of him. “Are you sure? I thought you didn’t trust me.”

 “I don’t ,” She retorts, “but I trust that you’ll ensure nobody will ever get their hands on my property.” She folds her arms, watching him as she continues. “All I ask is that you don’t use my testing information any of my other stuff to your advantage. Use the data from the bigger binder, I could care less what you do with it, but don’t take from mine. I think I’ve had enough taken from me, don’t you think?” She looks down as the latter statement slips past her lips, and he doesn’t need her to elaborate anymore for him to understand. Fulfilling her request won’t be a problem; she has his word. “You won’t regret your decision.”

 “Follow through with what I ask, and I won’t .” She remarks, and his lips form into a straight line at her response. He nods before picking up the binders, along with the small device. He places the device in his pocket as he lifts the heavy books into his arms. He glances towards Erica again, “Have a good night, Miss Slater.”

 Trent heads towards the apartment door, eager to read through his new inventory. Before he reaches for the door handle, he turns back to her one last time. “And thank you.”

 Erica nods. “You, too.”

 With that, he leaves the apartment. After the door closes, she takes a look around her home. Nothing looks like anything is out of place, so what was he doing before she got here? Did he snoop around? Did he come here looking for what she gave him? She brushes her paranoia aside, reminding herself that he was here to warn her about Umbrella’s future plans. He’s proving himself to be an ally, and she’s questioning his character. He just walked out of her apartment’s front door with the most valuable information about her for crying out loud, and yet she’s still suspicious of him. She sighs and runs her hands through her hair, and her nose curls as she feels something wet on her scalp.

 She pulls her hand away to find a patch of blood on her hand, and she lets out a frustrated sigh. Oh, right. She forgot she was supposed to come home and take a shower after catching her most recent meal, but luckily for her now that Trent is gone she’ll be able to do exactly that. She decides to lock the apartment door first — just in case anyone else tries to make a surprise visit.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃███.
PLACE: ┃█ ███, ████.
TIME: ┃█:██:██ ██.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 “ Erica! ”

 The sound of her name being shouted immediately grabs her attention, but she doesn’t instantly recognize the voice that called for her. It sounds familiar, but she can’t put a name to the voice. She turns around to look for whoever yelled her name, but she doesn’t see anyone. In fact, she doesn’t see anything but a sea of trees ahead of her, bathed in the darkness of the night sky. She knows these woods; she’s in Raccoon Forest, deep in the Arklay Mountains — but why is she here? What does this mean? Is she dreaming again? She hears the voice yell out her name once more, and she decides not to ask anymore questions, instead taking off towards whoever is calling out. Then, somewhere in the darkness, she spots something glistening in the moonlight. She comes close, and she realizes that it’s a train; a train with ‘ECLIPTIC EXPRESS’ in big bold letters on the side of it. There are no lights on and she doesn’t hear anything, but the presence of B.O.W.s is heavy in the air, along with the stench of rotting flesh.

 Her nose scrunches as the horrid fumes sting her nostrils, and before she has the chance to do anything else she hears a heavy, mechanic ‘clunk.’ The train in front of her creaks and groans, suddenly beginning to move. It moves faster and faster until it’s practically flying by her now, descending further into the wilderness as it travels down the tracks. The shrill sound of shrieking metal echoes in the distance, and her eyes widen. That can’t be good.

  BOOM!

 The explosion itself is loud and deafening, but following it is the dreadful sound of rumbling. The ground shutters beneath her feet, throwing her off balance and sending her tumbling towards the ground. She falls backwards — only to descend into an infinite fall. She lets out a horrified scream, terrified as she plummets further and further into a dark void. That is, until her body slams onto the floor. She can feel the back of her head ‘crack’ against the tile, and her head starts to throb as she sits up. Her brows furrow in pain, and as she looks around she realizes exactly where she is. She’s in the main lab of the Arklay Facility, directly in front of the horrifying Tyrant. She immediately scoots away from the cryogenic tube before she slides off the floor, keeping her eyes on the grotesque creature.

 A shudder runs through her spine as she locks eyes with its milky gaze. Seeing the monster up close is just as terrifying as seeing it far away, but she knows it’s not its fault. Even through her terror she knows that this used to be a person; a person that was more than likely experimented on to get where it is now. It makes a frown spread across her lips, deeply empathetic towards whoever this once was. She stares for another moment before she feels a new set of eyes on her, burning holes of hatred into the back of her head. She turns around, and she comes face to face with the barrel of a gun — held by none other than Wesker himself. He’s staring at her, keeping his weapon trained on her and showing no signs of letting up. Erica stares back at him, narrowing her eyes with disdain.

 Although he’s pointing a gun at her face, she isn’t at all phased by the weapon. She’s fully aware that none of this is real, and she knows that he can’t hurt her here. Even if this wasn’t a dream, a mere bullet isn’t enough to stop her.

 The look of sheer contempt on her face causes a smirk to pull at his lips. There it is . The cracks in her facade have become too much for her to hide, and he sees her exactly for what she is. A monster , and he can’t wait to expose her for what she really —

 His thoughts are interrupted by a sudden pain in the middle of his back, and his body tenses. He doesn’t say anything to her, simply aiming his weapon at her and keeping a close eye on her.  The room falls silent, save for the mechanical whirs of the computer consoles and the bubbling emanating from the room’s cryogenic tubes. Erica furrows her brows in confusion, wondering why he isn’t saying anything, and she notices the sly smirk on his face slowly fall away. It’s replaced by a frown — a frown that starts spilling blood. He chokes before letting out a strangled cough, and she gasps as the ichorous liquid splatters all over her face and clothes. Her shocked gaze watches on as a puddle of blood forms in the center of his chest, the blood darkening the fabric of his shirt. The bones in his body start to crunch, and her mouth falls open as his chest begins to move inward then outward.

 A fist shoots out from the center of his chest, soaked and dripping with blood as it emerges. He grunts in pain as he stares down at the hand as it stretches out its clawed fingers, and she covers her mouth in shock. The hand rips itself out of his body a second later, and Wesker is thrown to the ground. A pool of blood starts to form underneath his body, growing bigger and bigger as the blood flow continues. Her eyes immediately shift towards Wesker’s attacker, and as they lay upon the horrid creature her heart drops into the pit of her stomach. Sol . 

 “These humans and their tOyS …” The monster hisses, waving around its whipping tail with anger and irritation. It glares down at Wesker’s body, baring its teeth at him. It sticks the tip of its tail into his open wound, and Erica can hear a weak groan escape him as the tail digs into his flesh. She can see his fingers twitch, making her turn away from him. Just the sight of him makes her stomach churn, but it doesn’t compare to the appearance of the virus’ consciousness. She glances Sol over, and it grins at her. Its toothy smile makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and she knows its sinister glee can’t mean anything good. She furrows her brows with worry, and that worry only grows as it speaks up.

 “It is almost time…” It says. “Are you sure you can save them?”

 Its question makes her frown. Of course she isn’t sure — she can’t predict the future. She pauses, immediately correcting that thought; technically she can predict the future in this world, but with her involvement there’s no telling what could happen. She doesn’t know what will happen considering she couldn’t stop the spread of the virus to begin with, and she hopes she doesn’t have to witness any of her friends dying. She’s come too far to let that happen, and she sighs as she stares at Sol. “No,” She replies, “But I’m gonna try.”

 Wesker, in his dying moments, happens to overhear their conversation before he wakes up. He’s covered in sweat and out of breath, but he’s safe inside the comfort of his room. He leans back against his pillows, trying to piece together what the hell he just dreamt. Why was Erica in the Arklay Facility? What was it that killed him, and how did it know Erica? It was as if they were already acquainted, and the conversation the two of them shared before he died in his nightmare only makes him ask more questions. What did it mean by ‘it is almost time?’ Time for what? Is Erica planning something with that monster, and if so, who does it involve saving? Who is Erica trying to save? He wonders who it could be, but it can wait until tomorrow. He’s been exhausted lately with Umbrella running him into the ground all while trying to escape their clutches, and he needs all the sleep he can get. He lets out a sigh, and closes his eyes, relaxing his body until sleep takes him over.

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Raccoon City Police Department.
DATE: ┃ July 20th, 1998.
TIME: ┃01:45:06 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Three more days — just three more days until the S.T.A.R.S. members are supposed to head out into the Arklay Mountains. It was announced over a week ago that they would be going to investigate the area, and it was also then that Erica was informed she would not be joining them. In Wesker’s words, she wasn’t “certified” to participate in the mission, regardless of the training he had been providing her the past couple of months. He explained that she needed at least six months to be certified, otherwise she’s classified as a citizen and nothing more. After that, he told her she’s off the day the S.T.A.R.S. are set to leave and the few days following, and his statements left nothing but a bitter taste in her mouth. He went out of his way to make her accessible to him, only to jerk her around completely and get rid of her when he no longer needed her. She should have expected it, but now what is she supposed to do? How is she supposed to save the S.T.A.R.S.? Is she going to have to travel to the mountains on her own fruition? 

 Her deep thinking is interrupted by a light tap on her shoulder, and she turns around to see the gentle face of Rebecca. The young woman has only been working for the S.T.A.R.S. for over a month now, but Erica has already taken a liking to her. She’s always eager to lend a helping hand, and her kind demeanor makes Erica feel somewhat protective over her — like a big sister. She smiles at her, “Oh, hey, Rebecca. What’s up?”

 “I just wanted to know if you could help me find this file.” Rebecca sheepishly says, sliding over a sheet of paper with the name of a case file. “I’ve looked for it for half an hour now, and I still can’t find it.” She pouts.

 The pout on the younger woman’s face makes Erica let out a slight chuckle. “Of course I’ll help.” She answers, pushing her chair back so she can stand. Rebecca smiles, grateful to receive the help. She knows Erica may not be an official S.T.A.R.S. member, but her teamwork and willingness to offer tips and advice makes Rebecca greatly respect her. Not to mention Erica never scolds or pokes fun at her for being the youngest on the team, making her all the more favor the older young woman. She follows Erica down a flight of stairs and down a couple of halls before she leads her into a dark room, to which she pulls on a long chain. The lightbulb attached to the chain flicks on and illuminates the room. It’s a file room, stacked head to toe with documents practically spilling out of the shelves. It’s daunting to anyone who walks inside for the first time, but not to Erica. She’s been inside this room enough times over the past seven months to know where everything is like the back of her hand. As she takes a look around, she spots the area where Rebecca’s file should be located.

 She steps over to pull open a drawer and start searching through the endless files. As she does, silence befalls the room. Rebecca starts curiously looking around the room, wondering how the department even keeps this place organized. She’s pretty positive they don’t based on how some files look forced in their places. After she’s done looking around the room, she leans against one of the nearby file cabinets. She glances over at Erica’s focused face, and she purses her lips as a thought crosses her mind. “Erica, can I ask you something?”

 Erica doesn’t look up from what she’s doing, but she still answers the girl’s question. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

 “Do you believe in premonition dreams?” Rebecca unsurely asks, and it takes a moment before Erica registers her question. She stops looking through the files now, too focused on the strange inquiry. Where did that come from? She turns to her and quirks a brow. “What makes you ask that?”

 Erica’s expression alone makes Rebecca decide to brush off the question, now feeling like she shouldn’t have said anything at all. “I don’t know…” She looks down towards the floor, avoiding the other’s gaze. “It’s stupid. Forget it.”

 “No, it’s not stupid .” Erica retorts, prompting the girl to look up. “I actually do believe in them, but why do you wanna know all of a sudden? I didn’t take you for the kind of girl to believe in that kind of thing.”

 “I don’t — er, well, not usually . I just wanted to know if you’ve ever had a dream that something bad happened, and you had a feeling it was going to really happen.” Rebecca explains, and Erica can see a somber expression lingering on her features as she says it. Whatever she dreamt it must have been terrible, and Erica has an inkling it might have something to do with what’s going to happen in just a few days. She looks at Rebecca with her own look of sadness before she responds. “Yeah, I’ve had dreams like that before…” She turns away from her, going back to the files before she can think about any of them. There are too many to count, and she doesn’t believe sharing them with Rebecca would do her any good. Maybe if Rebecca talks about her dream, she’ll feel better. “What did you dream about?” Erica asks, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

 Rebecca is just about to tell Erica what she dreamt about just a few nights ago, but she opts against it. Erica may claim she believes in premonition dreams, but there’s no way she’d believe a dream like hers would happen. Not to mention she isn’t sure she’d be able to stomach explaining her dream, much less think about it; it’s better left unsaid. “I don’t really want to talk about it…” 

 “That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” Erica states, “But if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.” She looks at Rebecca with sincerity, and Rebecca smiles, feeling comforted by the woman’s words. “Thanks, Erica.”

 “Of course.” Erica smiles before pulling out a folder from her search pile. “Oh! Here’s that file you were looking for.” She proceeds to hand it over to her, and Rebecca takes it from her hands with a look of relief. Finally! 

 “Perfect! Thank you for your help.” She beams at Erica, and Erica nods as the two of them start to head out of the file room. “Anytime.”

⋆

LOCATION: ┃Erica’s apartment.
DATE: ┃ July 23rd, 1998.
TIME: ┃08:45:06 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 The day has finally come; today is the day the S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team is supposed to head out into the Arklay Mountains to investigate the recent ‘murders,’ and as Erica glances at the clock on her stove she realizes that they’re probably already on their way. All she has to do is make a quick inventory check and then she’ll be heading out herself. Once she found out she wasn’t going to be able to join them in their investigation, she decided she was just going to have to make the journey to the mountains herself instead. She can’t let anything get in the way of saving her loved ones, and that unfortunately includes the ones she loves. She ultimately had to leave Chris and Jill out of these plans, because she knew if she told them they would stop at nothing to prevent her from getting hurt. If she has to pay for her lies with an earful of scolding, then so be it. This is what she’s been preparing for since she got here. She can’t let anything stop her now — no matter who or what it is. 

 She shrugs off the thought as she checks her backpack; there are a collection of granola bars and water bottles, a first aid kit, a bottle of kerosene, a lighter, and a couple of waterproof flashlights. She wonders if she should bring her gun and ammo just in case, but what is she going to use it for? She knows she can just use her abilities to get rid of the B.O.W.s, but what will the S.T.A.R.S. members think about her killing monsters without breaking a sweat, much less commanding the creatures to die? She reluctantly decides to grab them both, shoving the ammo into the backpack and placing her gun on the coffee table before heading off to her room to find her belt and holster. She returns to the living room with it on and places the gun into the holster. She then zips up the backpack before sliding it on. 

 Erica takes a look around her apartment one last time before she decides that this is it. This is what she’s been waiting for — waiting to save all her friends and loved ones. She knows there’s a one in a million chance of her trip being all for nothing, but she doesn’t care. She can’t just sit by and do nothing; she would much rather have tried to prevent any of the terrible tragedies that are soon to happen from happening than do nothing at all. She takes a deep breath and grabs the keys to her motorcycle. She then heads towards her front door and locks it behind her, flicking off the lights and shutting the door.

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃Arklay Mountains, Raccoon City Forest.
DATE: ┃ July 23rd, 1998.
TIME: ┃11:13:52 PM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 It was over two hours ago that Erica set off to meet the S.T.A.R.S. members in the Arklay Mountains, and it was only an hour ago that she heard the sound of a helicopter overhead. It flew right past her, skipping over her with its searchlight. She then heard the sputter of an engine, and what followed was a loud crash. She started fighting through the thick brush to get to the crashed aircraft, but somewhere along the way something stopped her. A deep sinking feeling took hold of her stomach, and then there was a horrified scream followed by gunfire. She resumed fighting through the trees and thick bushes — only to come across a dead zombie lying beside what was left of the helicopter’s pilot, Kevin Dooley. The zombie had eaten him, and from the bullets that riddled its body she only assumed the Bravo team killed it after it did. Upon seeing this, she used the kerosene and matches to burn the fallen zombie along with Kevin’s body, ensuring he wouldn’t get back up as the living dead. There were no other bodies to be found, and after checking the area one last time she ran off in search of the Bravo team again. This was when she heard a ‘ hisssss ’ and the sound of heavy metal clinking together. The distinct sound instantly sent her towards whatever it was, and when she finally came across it she couldn't believe what she saw. It was a train — and it was speeding through the forest, the wheels squealing as they rode the tracks. It was just like her dream from the other night; it was the Ecliptic Express, one of Umbrella’s personal locomotives. She knew that could have only meant Rebecca was on it, traveling towards the Training Facility. It also meant she had no time to lose, and after reminding herself of this she pressed on.

 As luck would have it, she finally comes across what remains of the Bravo team on her way to the facility. Enrico, Richard, Forest, and Sullivan are walking around in a formation, keeping an eye out for any threats. Thank God ; she caught them before anything terrible happened to them, and now she has the chance to warn them. When they hear Erica approach, they all point their weapons at her, blinding her with their flashlights. She puts her hands up, indicating to them that she’s not a threat. “Don’t shoot!” She shouts, and a moment later the lights are out of her face, pointing towards the ground before they move towards her. 

 “Erica!” It’s the voice of Captain Marini, and when he approaches he automatically starts questioning her. “What are you doing here? A citizen such as yourself isn’t safe out in these woods.” He states, and Erica waves him off.

 “Captain, as much as I respect your authority, I’m going to need you to listen to me for a second.” She replies, “The reason I’m here is to help you.”

 “Help us? Help us with what? There are cannibals and rabid dogs walking around here — what are you gonna do?” Forest asks, and Enrico holds a hand up, indicating he should keep quiet. He wants to hear what she has to say. “Go on, Erica. Make it quick.” He makes a quick glance around the area, making sure to keep his guard up. However, there’s no need for him or any of the S.T.A.R.S. members to do so; she already has a guard up around all of them, mentally protecting them from the B.O.W.s in the area. Those monsters won’t be able to touch them as long as she’s around, and she doesn’t intend on leaving their sides now that she’s found them. She takes a deep breath before she explains herself. “You’re all in danger — ”

 “Yeah, no shit.” Richard jokes, and when everyone gives him an unamused expression he sheepishly looks away. “ Sorry . Continue.”

 “The one behind all the murders isn’t a serial killer or a cult of cannibals — it’s Umbrella . They’ve been experimenting with bio-organic weapons, viruses, and eugenics for decades, and unfortunately one of their viruses leaked and started infecting everything in the area.” She describes, “ That’s what’s been killing people. Some of the B.O.W.s and experiments they created escaped, and it’s become too much for Umbrella to handle. The press, the public, and the RPD have been on their case to do something about it, and so they sent all of you to ‘investigate.’” She quotes ‘investigate’ to emphasize the company’s lie. “All they’ve done is send you here to die, and based on what I saw at the crash site — it’s already happening.” A nervous swallow; palms sweaty with anxiety. “If you want to survive, you have to listen to me .”

 The four of them share glances amongst each other; at first they aren’t sure what to believe, wondering if their coworker has lost her mind. They want to discredit her, but Erica is the only person to have actually made sense since they got here. It finally explains everything; the murders, the zombie eating Kevin, Edward and Rebecca’s absence, and all the monsters they’ve had to run from. It’s as if all of these things could only happen in a horror movie, but it’s all real. It’s only natural Erica’s revelation is real, too, but Richard is still skeptical. He immediately questions her, wondering how she would even know something like this. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the explanation, but how do you know all this? Why would Umbrella do something like that?”

 Erica looks at him after the inquiry leaves his mouth. She isn’t sure she should answer, afraid of what they might think of her, but she decides it’s time to let that fear go. Umbrella has already involved them in their schemes, and there’s no point in keeping her secret from them anymore. “Because they experimented on me.” She says, a frown lingering on her lips. “They turned me into some kind of freak, and I’m able to do things that no human should be able to do. That’s exactly why I’m out here — ” She takes a look at all of their faces, hoping they’re still listening. “ — to use these abilities to save you.”

 She eagerly awaits a response from someone — anyone who will say they believe her, and when she doesn’t she tries to explain herself some more. “I-I know I always seemed so weird and distant all the time, but it was because I didn’t want to risk any of you knowing the truth about me. I…” She trails off, looking towards the ground. “...I was afraid you would all think I was a monster.”

 An awkward silence settles on the group, and Erica can feel her eyes start to prickle with tears. They don’t believe her… A single tear manages to spill down one of her cheeks until the silence is broken by one of the S.T.A.R.S. members. “Miss Slater,” The voice of Kenneth Sullivan makes her shift her glossy eyes up to look at him, “I may not have gotten to know you like the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. members have, but I think it’s mighty honorable that you would come all the way out here just to help us. I don’t care how crazy all this sounds or what kind of things you supposedly can do — if you know a way to get us out of this mess, then by all means I’ll hear you out.”

 His words instantly give her a sense of relief, and it isn’t long before Enrico speaks up as well. “I have to agree with Sullivan.” He looks at Erica, “I would like to hear you out as well.”

 She can’t help but let a relieved smile spread across her lips, and she turns to Richard and Forest. The two of them nod in agreement, ready to hear what they need to know. This signals for her to speak up and inform them how to survive the night, elated to be able to save the people she cares about. “Okay. The first thing you need to know is if someone looks human but doesn’t act human, you need to shoot them in the head.” She starts, “The next thing you need to know is if you come across any kind of monster and I’m not around, shoot whatever it is in the eyes. If that doesn’t work, use whatever firepower you have to take it down until it stays down. Whatever it takes .” She emphasizes the latter statement, making sure to let them know just how serious she is. “And finally, the most important thing,” She looks around at all of their faces, making sure that they’re paying attention. They all look eager to know; to find out how they’ll be able to make it out of this nightmare. “Do not get bit under any circumstances unless you want to turn into one of them.”

 “Is that all?” Enrico asks, and Erica stares up at him. She’s come far enough to tell them the reason why they’re here; to tell them who has lured the S.T.A.R.S. right into a trap. If she can reveal she was one of Umbrella’s test subjects, then she can reveal that Wesker was the one behind their planned downfall. She frowns. “No… You also need to know Wesker was the one who planned all this.” She states, “He’s been secretly working for Umbrella this entire time, and they ordered him to send the S.T.A.R.S. members into the mountains to be used as testing data.”

 “Testing data for what?” Richard questions fearfully, and Erica can hear the fear in his voice. She tries not to let her own fear for him show when she responds. “For their escaped experiments.”

 “I can’t believe this — ” Forest starts, but Enrico immediately cuts him off. “I knew there was always something off about him.” He mutters, “But I never thought that bastard would do something like this .”

 “So, what do we do now?” Kenneth asks, and before Erica has the chance to answer him a hellish sound overtakes the woods — screeching for all to hear. The group immediately starts looking around for where the sound could be coming from, and they’re interrupted by a loud explosion that surges through the trees. 

  BOOOMMM!!!

 The blast is deafening, and when its rumbling force reaches Erica and the S.T.A.R.S. members it knocks them off balance. All five of them grab hold of nearby trees to prevent themselves from falling, and after the ground stops rumbling Erica can bear the sound of wings flapping. There are tons and tons of birds flying away, terrified from the sudden eruption. Her heart is beating right out of her chest, and she turns her attention towards where the sound had come from. In the distance, she can now hear the crackling of flames, overtaking the wreckage of what she can only assume to be the Ecliptic Express. She takes off running towards it, worried thoughts about Rebecca swirling her mind. “Come on!” She yells, “This way!” 

⋆

TIME: ┃12:27:45 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After taking off in search of Rebecca, the group came to the entrance of the Training Facility’s train station, but it was blocked off by flames and congested cable cars. They decided to look for another way around, where they discovered the front entrance to a large, mansion-like structure surrounded by a stone wall. One of the S.T.A.R.S. members hoisted Erica up to take a look over the wall, and to the left there was what looked to be a bridge that led to nowhere on the cliff the structure sat on. To the right was an entrance to the building, and there were construction grids on either side. It was clear; completely free of B.O.W. activity. She told them so, and after making it over the wall the group approached the double doors. Forest and Richard make an attempt to kick it in, but it’s proven to be useless. The doors don’t budge — until Erica steps forward and forcefully kicks them inward. The doors are practically hanging off of the hinges, and she promptly enters the building. The group exchanges looks of shock and bewilderment, but they choose to brush their befuddlement aside. The S.T.A.R.S. members follow behind her, and as soon as they do they hear the sound of a door opening and closing. The five of them glance over with their weapons ready, and up a couple levels of stairs is none other than Rebecca.

 The young woman feels a rush of pure glee, and she flies down the staircase to meet up with the rest of her team. Oh, how she missed them! Just as she approaches, however, her glee is replaced by confusion at the sight of Erica. Wait — what is Erica doing here? Don’t get Rebecca wrong, she’s never been happier to see her, but what is she doing here? She ignores it for now, believing that conversation can wait for another time. She’s just simply grateful to have more people on her side.

 As the group begin to share ‘how have you beens’ and ‘are you okays,’ the cameras that were recently installed capture them doing so. On the other side of the lens is none other than William and Wesker, and they watch the screen in front of them with intense interest. They were surprised when they watched the two front doors burst open and were even more so when they saw Erica and the remaining members of the Bravo team appear on the other side of it. Wesker never anticipated that Erica would come all this way just to help the S.T.A.R.S. members, but now that she has he can’t wait to gather whatever data she provides. He has a feeling tonight she’s going to show her true self, and he wants to be there to see it. He wants to finally see it with his own eyes. His thoughts are interrupted by William, and he turns his attention towards the other. 

 “Who are all these people?” William asks.

 “They’re S.T.A.R.S. members, just like the other one.” Wesker replies, “I thought they would’ve been dead by now, though.”

 “Wait,” William squints his eyes, inspecting the pixels of the screen. “Is that Erica?”

 “It is.” Wesker leans back in his chair, watching her through the screen. “She came all this way to help her little friends.” He can’t help but chuckle at the thought, but he knows better than to underestimate her. He’s seen what kinds of things she can do to the human body; there’s no telling what she might be able to do to B.O.W.s. He may or may not be curious to know, but the thought slips away from him as he watches the group begin to move on camera. They all start to disperse away from each other in pairs, leaving only Erica and Rebecca in the main hall of the facility. The two women then walk off camera, prompting the two men to start searching through the other cameras to find them. Through the various cameras, they aren’t able to find Rebecca or Erica anywhere, and William grunts in frustration.

 “Where did they go ?” His irritation is clear in his voice, but Wesker is unbothered. He knows they’re still in the facility — that’s all that matters.

 The two women are on their way to look for Billy, something Rebecca pleaded for the group to do before they made their way out of the facility. She was worried for him, and she didn’t want to leave him behind. Erica volunteered to go look with her, while the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. members decided to scope the area. After parting ways with the group, Erica and Rebecca began heading towards a set of double doors on the far right of the room. Before Rebecca has a chance to reach for one of the door handles, however, Erica stops her. “Wait.” She says, holding up a hand to signal for her to pause. On the other side of the door are a couple of shuffling zombies; Erica can sense that one is close to the door, while another is towards the far wall. “What is it?” Rebecca asks, curious as to why Erica just stopped her. 

 “Zombies.” Erica replies, and her answer only puzzles Rebecca more. Zombies? How does Erica know there are zombies in there? She’s come to expect to come across the shuffling undead after what’s happened so far tonight, but the way Erica is speaking — it’s as if she knows for certain there are zombies in the room in front of them without being told. “How do you know?”

 “I can feel them.” Erica whispers, placing her own hand on the door handle and ever so slightly pulling the latch. “There’s one on the other side of this door,” She turns to Rebecca, “So I’ll go in first.”

 “But Erica — ” Rebecca tries to protest, but Erica cuts her off. “Just trust me, okay?” 

 Rebecca purses her lips; she fully believes that Erica doesn’t know what she’s doing. All she’s going to do is waltz in there and get herself killed because she believes she has some kind of ability to sense zombies. Of all the crazy things she’s seen and heard tonight, that takes the icing on the cake. She sighs, relenting. “Okay.”

 Erica slowly pulls open the door, and as she cracks it open the stench of the stumbling corpse fills her nostrils. Her stomach bubbles, and she can feel bile burn the back of her throat. Ugh . She holds her breath, and when she peeks in she spots the zombie right in front of her. It’s facing away from her, unaware of her presence behind him. On the back of its bloodied uniform is an Umbrella emblem, and this makes her lip curl in disgust. He must have belonged to one of the teams Umbrella sent in to reopen the facility, and now he’s dead. ‘But not dead enough.’ She thinks, and when the zombie shifts to the side it groans. It doesn’t seem to notice her, and it never will as a whisper slips past her lips.

 “ Die .” 

 After her silent command, the corpse instantaneously combusts into flames, along with the one behind it. The fire completely engulfs the undead in its hot rage, and the ensuing heat makes her take a step back. Rebecca steps back, too, but as she watches the zombie burn she tries to process what just happened. Did Erica just command that zombie to die? — And did it seriously self combust upon command? Once the flames die down, the crisp smell of burnt flesh lingers in the air. The smell makes Erica gag, and she can’t hold it in anymore; she runs over to the corner before vomiting onto the dusty, marble floor. She shudders once the nausea subsides, and she wipes her mouth with the bottom of her shirt. Rebecca watches her, and when she returns the young woman doesn’t know what to say. ‘How did you do that?’ ‘What are you?’ ‘Are you okay?’ She chooses to go with the latter question seeing how pale Erica is. 

 “Are you okay?” Rebecca asks, and Erica nods. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. The smell just got to me.” She says.

 “I’m glad you’re okay, but…” Rebecca frowns, “How did you do that? You told that zombie to die and it did .”

 There’s fear behind her eyes when she says this, and if there’s anything Erica doesn’t want it’s for the younger woman to be fearful of her. She should have told the truth before she got too ahead of herself, but if there’s ever a time for her to confess it would be now. “I, uh,” Her face falls downcast, and she avoids the other’s gaze. She always feels so ashamed to admit it, whether it was her fault or not. “I was experimented on by Umbrella, and the experiments led to — ” She motions towards the zombie burnt to a crisp, “ — being able to do things like this.”

 Rebecca feels all of her fears suddenly wash away, and it’s replaced by the utmost sympathy. Based on some of the files that she’s already found, Umbrella was performing some kind of experiments but she couldn’t exactly piece together what they were experimenting on. Now it’s all so clear — they were performing experiments on humans, people, innocent lives. That unfortunately happened to include Erica, and it takes her another moment to register the words that just left the woman’s mouth. How did it happen? When did it happen? How did she escape? She has so many questions, but she decides to put them on hold for now. She can ask them at another time. “Oh…” She murmurs, unsure of what to say other than the only thing that can come to mind. “I’m so sorry, Erica.”

 “Don’t be.” Erica replies, “It’s not your fault.” The girl’s solemn face makes her look away and towards the double doors leading into the dining room, and she swallows. “Are you ready to go find Billy?”

 Rebecca brushes off the awkward end to their conversation to answer Erica’s next question, “Yes.”

 “Then let’s go.” Erica motions for the other to follow her, and so they slip into the dining room to search for Rebecca’s missing companion. Rebecca doesn’t know what exactly happened to Erica, but she’s glad that someone with her ability is on her side and not on the side of the monsters. How awful would that be, right? She shakes off the thought as they tread further into the depths of the building.

⋆

TIME: ┃12:54:36 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After heading through the dining room, the two women entered a store room that held a couple of more zombies, alongside a shotgun that Rebecca happily equipped. They ended up not finding Billy in the rooms they searched, so they returned to the main hall and continued their search elsewhere. They headed upstairs where they entered a classroom; a classroom that was once used to teach Umbrella’s students. There Rebecca found a case of shotgun shells, while Erica found a pile of documents sitting on top of a desk with a large screen. They were old and stained documents detailing just how frigidly strict Umbrella was when the facility was still functional, and she set them aside when the two went to enter the only unlocked door in the room. That was where they found a zombie dead on the floor, and it made Rebecca wonder if Billy was the one behind the fallen deceased. She noticed a set of double doors and motioned for Erica to check it out.

 When they open the doors, they immediately notice someone standing over to the right. It’s a man with dark brown hair cut into a mullet, and he’s wearing a pair of brown boots, a pair of jeans, and a dark gray tank top that shows off the tribal tattoo on his right arm. Erica doesn’t need to be told who this is to recognize him as Billy Coen, one of the main characters in Resident Evil Zero. He was Rebecca’s companion throughout the game after the two boarded the Ecliptic Express, and at the end they ended up parting ways. Nobody from the real world knows what happened to his character after that, including Erica. He’s taken aback by her presence, too, confused as to where she came from. How did she end up all the way out here? She doesn’t look like a S.T.A.R.S. member… 

 “I see you found some more company.” He says, and he glances her up and down. ‘Pretty company at that.’ He thinks.

 “Billy, this is Erica. She’s — ” Rebecca starts, but before she can say what Erica exactly does, she stops herself. Although Erica’s position in the office is more like a secretary or a receptionist, Rebecca has always considered her to be an honorary S.T.A.R.S. member. Her penchant for helping people and call to action are what Rebecca believes makes someone a S.T.A.R.S. member, and to her, those are some of Erica’s greatest qualities. “ — an honorary S.T.A.R.S. member.” She corrects herself, and she looks over to the white haired woman. “She came all this way just to help my team.”

 Erica smiles at Rebecca’s small introduction, but Billy isn’t as pleased. How is she supposed to help them? An honorary S.T.A.RS. member — pshaw . If real, trained S.T.A.R.S. members can be killed, what makes her any different? She’ll just be another number added to the body count, and the idea of it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He’s getting tired of all this death. “Well, that’s just wonderful.” He chuckles, “Are you two gonna braid each other’s hair before we get out of here, too?”

 The question makes Erica raise her brows, surprised at his pessimistic sarcasm. She doesn’t remember him being this rude in the games. A chuckle slips past her lips, and she can feel irritation bubbling in her stomach. “We’ll have time to braid yours, too, don’t worry.”

 Billy raises his brows, too, but he can’t help but smirk at her response.  Touché . “Hm.” He leans against the desk he was searching through when they walked in, and he folds his arms. “Well, how exactly do you plan on helping us, cowgirl?” He asks, “You got any more weapons on you?”

 Erica decides to ignore the petty nickname for now; getting him, Rebecca, and the rest of the Bravo out of here alive is more important than winning some childish argument. She can always get him back for his comment later. “I plan on getting you out of here alive, along with everybody else. Speaking of everybody else,” Her attention shifts back over to Rebecca. “Will you try seeing if you can get back in contact with the team?” A frown graces her lips. “I haven’t heard or smelled them in a while.”

 “ Heard or smelled ? What are you — a bloodhound ?” Billy retorts, and Erica forces herself to ignore him. He’s not worth it. “No, but I can smell you and you stink .” She remarks. So much for ‘he’s not worth it.’

 Although Rebecca is still confused as to how Erica’s abilities work, she'll take her word for it. She hasn’t heard or seen any trace of the team either, so she decides to pull her radio off of her waist band and press the button. “Bravo team, this is Officer Chambers. Can you hear me?” There’s nothing but static on the other end, and it sends a wave of worry through her body. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she presses the button again. “I repeat. Bravo team, this is Officer Chambers. Can you hear me ?”

 There’s still no response, and Erica’s worried expression matches Rebecca’s own when their gazes meet. Something must have happened to them — or they’re in some kind of danger. Rebecca swallows nervously, and she places the radio back onto her waist band. “We need to get moving. They can’t have gotten far.” She says, and Erica nods in agreement. She glances over to Billy, and she eyes the gun on his hip. “Do you have enough ammo?”

 Billy reaches down to check the magazine in his handgun, and it appears that he only has about three bullets left. “I got three bullets.” He states, and Erica takes off her backpack to unzip it. She pulls out a full box of bullets and holds it out to him. “Are these enough for you?” He looks down at the box, and he can’t help but let out a chuckle of disbelief. ‘I’ll be damned.’ He thinks. It’s a brand new box of 9mms — the exact bullet he needs. Upon seeing this he eagerly takes the box from her hand; this will definitely come in handy later. 

 “Are either of you hungry or thirsty?” Erica questions, pulling out a couple of water bottles and granola bars. She hands a water bottle and a granola bar to Rebecca, who immediately opens the water bottle to clench her thirst. She holds out the other bottle and granola bar to Billy, and as he takes them from her a feeling of guilt washes over him. He acted like such a dick towards her, and here she is willingly giving him ammo, food, and water. He’s quiet for a few moments, staring down at the items with a frown. “ Thanks .” He murmurs, and Erica turns her attention away from zipping up her backpack over to him. It takes her a moment to register what he just said, and a faint smile spreads across her lips once she does. “You’re welcome.”

 “Okay.” Rebecca says, shoving her granola bar into one of her pant pockets for later, alongside her water bottle. She readies her weapon, aiming it towards the floor. She turns to Erica and Billy, and she has a look of determination on her face. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃The Basement, Training Facility.
DATE: ┃ July 24th, 1998.
TIME: ┃01:34:28 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 After exiting the library, the trio returned to the main hall to figure out how to get out of the facility. This was where they inspected the golden statue that sat at the top of the stairs, and seeing it sparked some of Erica’s knowledge about the facility. They were going to have to look for two small statues — both consisting of two separate pieces — and set them on the scales the statue held. It would allow them access to the basement, and it would allow them to get one step closer to getting out and finding the Bravo team. It didn’t take long for them to search for the pieces with Erica around; with her superhuman strength, keys weren’t needed, and with her ability to burn the monsters, getting rid of zombies and B.O.W.s made the search a walk in the park. It took Billy aback to see her do such things, but after a quick explanation from Rebecca he came to know there was more to Erica’s unsettling abilities. She had been experimented on, and just hearing that made him feel like even more of a dick than he had before. It also made him all the more grateful that she had come all this way to help, even if she might not have originally intended to help him . He considered apologizing to her whenever they got out of the facility — if they got out.

 His pessimistic views took a turn for the better when they finally found the last piece. After they recovered all four pieces of the statues, they returned to the main hall where they placed the black and white figures on the appropriate scales. It caused a loud, mechanical echo to reverberate off of the room’s walls, and they all surmised that meant something must have been unlocked. 

 As the three begin searching for the door leading into the basement, Wesker and William watch the screen with intense interest. They’ve been on the edge of their seats for the past half hour, watching as a new development unfolds before their very eyes. Not only had Erica surprised them when she accompanied the Bravo team to the facility, but imagine how surprised they were when they witnessed the young woman incinerate B.O.W.s without even lifting a finger. The technicians that were sent into the Training Facility to install the cameras died before they had the chance to set up the audio, but the two men didn't need sound to be able to tell what was happening on screen. From the pixelated image, they caught Erica’s lips moving before the monsters went up in flames. Each one she came across was instantaneously enveloped in a ball of fire, merely because she said it so. A thought crossed their curious minds; if she could command them to die, what else could she command them to do? Wesker has since then pondered about the endless possibilities, and after a while William interrupts his silent speculations. 

 “She’s killing all of them…” He mutters, amazed by Erica’s ability to terminate B.O.W.s. If she can kill B.O.W.s, much less command them, there’s no telling what other things she could be capable of. Not only could she be his one way ticket to a position on the board of executives, but she could be a viable test subject for his G-Virus, too. As he watches the screen, his giddy amusement starts to turn to concern when he suddenly realizes the severity of her eliminating the B.O.W.s. If she kills all of them, he won’t have any testing data left to sell off. Rather than an advantage, she could be a threat to his plans. He frowns at the thought, and he turns over to Wesker. “But why? What does she have to gain from killing them?”

 Wesker strokes his chin in thought, searching for an answer to his colleague’s inquiry. As he does, he thinks back to the dream he had several days ago. He remembers finding himself in the Arklay Facility, contaminated with the walking dead. He made his way to the main lab where he found Erica — standing in front of the Tyrant’s cryogenic tube. He then approached her from behind, keeping his gun aimed at her before she noticed him. She didn’t look scared or even phased by his presence, much less intimidated by the threat of his weapon. He believed this to be her revealing her true self, and he was about to confront her before he felt a terrible pain. It was a hand — reaching through his back and exiting through his chest. Both he and Erica stared at the bloody hand in disbelief, and seeing her horrific expression made him second guess her nature. Did she not hate him? Did she not wish to see him dead? Why did she look so petrified? 

 He then fell to the floor, and as he laid there in a puddle of his own blood he overheard a conversation. Erica was talking to someone; a creature that he couldn’t make out, but he could hear its voice. It definitely wasn’t human, and it asked Erica if she was sure she could save “them.” She told them she wasn’t, but she was going to try. Wesker didn’t know who ‘them’ was at the time, but now that he’s here, sitting in this chair in front of the many screens, he realizes what the creature meant. 

 Erica has been planning on saving the S.T.A.R.S. members all along, and upon realizing this he turns to William. “Because she wants to save the S.T.A.R.S. members.” He responds.

 William scoffs, annoyed at the answer. “Who cares? They’re expendable, anyways.”

 “Not to her .” Wesker says. “They’ve become her soft spot.” 

 After the words come out of his mouth, he considers using that small piece of information as leverage. Soon, the Alpha team will have to be sent in to retrieve the Bravo team, and he’ll need something to use against her in case she tries to expose him. Perhaps he could use Chris as leverage; he and Erica have grown very close these past few months — surely it would bring her great pain if something were to happen to him. It would be such a shame to get rid of such a good soldier, but oh well. A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth, and he revels in the idea as he watches the group walk off screen and into a new area. 

 Once the trio successfully finds the entrance to the basement, they enter a hall where they're met with three giant spiders. Erica promptly gets rid of them so they can pass through the long, dirty hall, where they make a left turn and enter a small room. When they step inside they take a look around, and Billy notices something on the wall. It looks like a map, and he steps closer to take a closer look. When he reaches up and pulls it off the wall, the old and loose thumb tacks fall to the floor. As he gives the map a closer examination, he realizes what this is a map of. How convenient .

 “It’s a map to the basement.”

The words that slip out of his mouth immediately catch Rebecca’s attention, and she peers over to take a peek at the map. Erica’s attention, however, is elsewhere; she can start to feel a headache coming on, and her stomach is clenched, tense as she stands in the small room. She can sense something up ahead; something vile and terrible . She can smell it, too, and the stench makes her nauseous. It’s a combination of death, rotting flesh, excrement, and bodily fluids — a mixed pot of some of the worst smells imaginable. Rebecca glances up from the map and notices the worried, disgusted look on Erica’s face. “What’s wrong?”

 Erica looks to Rebecca, and she can see the concern behind the younger woman’s eyes. She swallows nervously, her body becoming hot with worry as she looks at the other; worry that something could potentially happen to her. “There’s something evil down here,” She frowns, “And I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

 “What is it?” Billy asks, starting to become a bit perturbed himself. What does Erica believe is down here, and what could it be that would make someone like her terrified of it? What could be worse than what they’ve already seen? The inquiry makes Erica shift her eyes up at him; he and Rebecca share the same worried stare, and she doesn’t know how to reassure them. She can only imagine what horrific creatures that might lie ahead just based on their feral energy, and now that they all know Rebecca and Billy are in the basement they’re practically itching to sink their teeth into them. She can hear all of their blood thirsty thoughts right now, anxious to get a taste of —

 Rebecca places a hand on Erica’s arm, pulling her out of her stupor. “You okay?” Erica blankly stares at the brunette’s soft face before she places her hand over the other’s, giving it a light squeeze. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She replies, and when Rebecca retracts her hand an idea comes to Erica’s mind. She should probably give her weapons to them in case something goes awry; she doesn’t need the firepower as much as they do, and they aren’t as durable as she is. She hasn’t needed her guns so far, so she should be fine without them from here on out. “I just think you two should take these.” She takes them out of her holsters and hands them to the both of them. “Just in case.”

 Billy furrows his brows. “Are you sure? What if something attacks you? What if — ”

 “Trust me.” She interrupts, brushing off his concern. “I’ll be fine.”

 Rebecca stares at Erica as she holds out the automatics, and a frown spreads across her lips. She can’t believe she’s about to say this, but — 

 “I’m going to have to agree with Billy. I don’t mean any disrespect, Erica, but I just don’t think it’s safe to go unarmed. Especially if you’re saying something dangerous is up ahead.” She says, “What are you going to do if something attacks you?”

“The same thing I’ve been doing.” Erica responds, and the answer makes Rebecca purse her lips. She knows fully well that Erica can get rid of those things without any kind of weapons, but she still doesn’t feel good about her going without anything to defend herself with. She decides to pull a flash grenade off of her waist band and hold it out to her. “Then I want you to take this.” She says, and Erica looks at the other, hesitant to take the grenade. She knows she won’t need it, but maybe it will put Rebecca’s concerns at ease if she just takes it. She ultimately decides to accept it from her, taking it and slipping it into one of the side pockets of her backpack for safe keeping. She looks back to Rebecca, “Are we good to go?”

 Rebecca bites her lip, still not content with the other’s lack of weaponry, but it will have to do for now. She nods, and the three of them move to enter the door on the other side of the tiny room. When they enter, they’re met with a large and smelly room, and in the very center of it is a ring of animal statues. There is a wolf, cougar, serpent, deer, eagle, and a stallion, and upon seeing the ring of animals Erica immediately turns to the both of them. “Do either of you have a lighter?” She asks, and Billy starts to rummage through his pockets. He pulls his lucky lighter out, and he’s just about to hand it to her before he’s interrupted by a shrill shriek. He’s never heard anything make that noise before, and he isn’t sure if he wants to find out, either…

 Erica whips her head around to sense multiple infected coming towards them, and before she has the chance to react they’re all around them. The infected creatures look like pale, rotting apes; adorned with razor sharp claws and teeth that gnash with insatiable hunger. Their shiny, milky eyes only add to the horror of their appearance, but the smell that comes off of them is even worse. Feces and rotting flesh; it’s rancid enough to make her want to throw up, but she forces it back down. There’s a good five — maybe six of them coming towards the trio, and seeing so many at once makes her mind race. She can’t focus on any of them due to how fast and rampant they move, but she just so happens to notice one out of the corner of her eye getting ready to lunge towards Rebecca. She immediately throws herself in front of Rebecca before the creature can claw at her. Its claws end up slicing into her shoulder, and she lands on the ground with a thud. 

 “Oh my God!” Rebecca screams, horrified at the sight of her falling to the ground. “ Erica! ” What happened? Was she hit? Is she okay?

 Blood immediately begins to seep through Erica’s shirt, and she can feel the warm liquid dripping down onto her neck and seeping into her armpit. The pain sparks a fiery anger inside of her chest, and her stomach tightens. It becomes tighter and tighter as the sound of her adrenaline driven heart pounds in her ears. Her veins darken as her skin starts to transform to a purple-blue hue, accented by a bloody red reaching from her finger and toe tips to her elbows and knees. Her hair doesn’t fall out this time — instead going up in flames and instantly becoming long, slithering tendrils. Her tail whips out from underneath her clothes, and its bony tip extends outward; along with her long and sharp claws, monstrous teeth, and other bonelike mutations. She whips her head around to look at the creatures once the transformation is complete, and she bares her teeth to hiss at them. 

 Rebecca and Billy are taken aback by her sudden change in appearance, horrified at what they’re seeing. What did Erica just turn into? Is she even human? What is going on? Erica’s glowing eyes face the both of them, and when she speaks their horror only amplifies. “ ClOsE yOuR eYeS aNd CoVeR yOuR eArS. ” She growls. The terrifying voice that emits from her lips makes them do exactly as they’re told, and their lack of attention towards the monsters makes one of the apes believe it has an opening to attack. It jumps towards Billy, but Erica stabs her tail forward to pierce it through its head before it can reach him. Its body seizes and then falls limp, and she tosses its corpse to one of the corners of the room. Another one promptly tries to attack her in retaliation, but she pierces her claws through its abdomen — instantly stunting the creature's futile attempt. She slams its body down onto the floor before turning her attention towards the other four. She rushes forward to slash her claws at them, and one of them screeches from behind her. It jumps on her back and bites her shoulder, and she lets out a howl of pain.

 The howl is unlike anything Billy or Rebecca had ever heard before, and its sheer loudness causes them to press their hands closer to their ears to prevent the awful sound from penetrating their ear drums. Erica angrily reaches around to grab the ape by the back of its neck, and after getting a good grip, she sinks her claws into its flesh. It cries out, but it doesn’t phase her as she grips its flesh harder, and she slings its body onto the floor. Its body slams with a resounding ‘thud,’ and it screams at her. She then smashes its skull with her boot, silencing its shrill screams. She turns around to grab two more by their heads, and she violently slams their faces into the nearby wall. Spatters of blood and brain matter hit her face before she turns to spot the remaining ape beating on its chest, preparing itself to come for her like the rest of its fallen brethren. It runs towards her, but halfway through its angry charge she lunges towards it — grabbing it by its head and legs to rip it into two. Its flesh rips and tears; bones cracking underneath Erica’s forceful grip as the monster is torn apart. Erica drops the mangled body once she’s done, and an eerie silence settles over the room. Her heavy breathing is the only sound that she can hear, and when her hunger for violence has been satiated, her body begins reverting back into her normal self. She holds her breath as her bones crack and sink back into her flesh before exhaling, letting out a whimper of pain once the process is finished.

 She then turns around to Rebecca and Billy, whose eyes are still closed and ears are still covered, and walks over to them. She taps Rebecca on the shoulder, and Rebecca almost jumps out of her skin at the unexpected touch. When she opens her eyes, a gasp slips past her lips at the sight of Erica. Her hands, boots, and clothes are covered in blood; a lot of blood. What happened? Is that Erica’s blood? Is she okay? Rebecca happens to catch a glimpse of the bodies behind the bloody woman, and she immediately forces herself to look away from the gruesome scene. She doesn’t need to ask to know what happened here, so she instead shifts her attention back to Erica. If she recalls correctly, Erica’s shoulder was slashed by one of those monsters, but everything was moving so fast that she doesn’t know exactly what happened. If she did get slashed, there’s no doubt in Rebecca’s mind that the wound needs to be checked. Her medical instincts kick in, and she starts reaching towards her. “Are you okay? Do I need to check you?”

 “Oh, it’s not necessary.” Erica awkwardly replies, brushing off Rebecca’s concerns. “I’m fine.” She says.

 “Let me just check you — ” Rebecca states, reaching towards her shoulder again. Erica reluctantly lets her take a look, and her gaze falls to the floor as Rebecca pulls the neck of her shirt to the side. Rebecca quickly realizes that not only is there no wound, but it’s as if there was never even a wound at all. There’s blood everywhere…but no wound. It’s as if Erica regenerated the damaged flesh within an instant, and the idea of such a thing makes her retract her hand. ‘This just can’t be real.’ She tries to tell herself, ‘But if everything else we’ve seen tonight is real, how could this not be?’ She questions. She brushes off her thoughts to turn her attention towards Billy and she taps him on the shoulder. He opens his eyes to look at a now bloody Erica, and he raises his brows at the sight of her, instantly taken aback by her gorey appearance. “ Woah .” He murmurs, “Are you alright?”

 His eyes happen to land on one of the many bodies littering the room, and he has to look away from the horrific sight so he doesn’t barf. The monsters are almost unrecognizable after having been dealt with by Erica, and he feels as if the question he just asked was pretty redundant. Considering she’s the last one standing, he’s pretty positive she’s spick and span. “Er, nevermind.” He awkwardly says, shoving his hands into his pockets. His fingers fumble with the items in his pockets, and he suddenly remembers what Erica asked him before those things surrounded them. He grabs his lighter and takes it out of his pocket before holding it out to her. “You still need this?”

 Erica glances at the lighter before down to her bloody hands and decides that it’s better that he holds onto the lighter. He probably doesn’t want to have blood and brain matter all over it, so she’ll just have to tell him how to complete the puzzle in the center of the room and he can do it himself. “We’re going to need it to get past that gate.” She points over towards a metal gate on the other side of the room, and Billy nods. “What do we need it for?”

 “We need it for these animal statues.” Erica states, and the both of them look at her. “What about them?” Rebecca questions, and Erica faces her. “Each one is supposed to be the predator and the prey of the other. For example,” She motions towards the snake statue. “The snake — ” She points towards the eagle statue on the other side of the statue ring. “ — is the prey of the Eagle.”

 “Oh, I get it.” Billy says, examining all of the other statues. “So, what comes first?”

 Erica starts to think back on what she knows about the building’s puzzles, and if she’s right, the deer should be first. That would mean the wolf could come after that, then the stallion, the cougar, the serpent, and finally the eagle. “The deer.” She replies, and Billy walks over towards the deer statue to light the wick underneath. The lighter sparks to life before igniting the thick wick, and once it’s burning long enough to leave alone Billy looks up at Erica. “Next one?”

 Before Erica has a chance to respond, Rebecca pipes up. “It’s going to be the wolf, right?” She asks, looking over to Erica. Erica simply nods, “Yes, and then the stallion.”

 “The cougar…” Billy quietly says to himself, and it only takes the process of elimination to figure out that the serpent and the eagle are the last two statues to be lit. Once he successfully lights all of the statues, a loud, mechanical ‘clank’ echoes through the room. The metal door they needed to open rises upwards, coming to a complete stop once it reaches the top of the doorway. The three of them look at each other before they all press forward. 

 They inspect the first door on their right, and at first glance they don’t find anything valuable — that is, until Billy spots something in the fireplace. He picks up what appears to be a medium sized concrete slab, and when he looks at the indention written in the stone he reads the word ‘Unity.’ He raises a brow before bringing it to the others’ attention, and Erica walks over to inspect what he just found. Upon reading the single word etched into the concrete slab, she realizes that this is the Unity tablet. The Unity tablet is part of a trio of concrete slabs that are supposed to unlock something in the Observatory — which inadvertently leads them towards the way out. “We’re going to need this if we want to get out of here.” Erica says, and she looks up to glance between the both of them. “There are two more tablets just like this one, but they have the words Obedience and Discipline etched into them instead. I think I know where one of them is,” She explains, “But we have to find the last one.”

 As the words exit her mouth, Rebecca can’t help but question how Erica knows all this. Come to think of it, how did she know about the statue with the scales? How did she know to use the lighter on the animal statues? Has she been here before? Is there something Erica knows but she just isn’t telling? After giving it some thought, Rebecca decides to ignore the skeptical line of questioning; if Erica is willing to use her knowledge to help them, she’s willing to put her skepticism aside. Right now she has to focus on finding the other tablet so they can finally get out of this dreadful place. “Okay. Where do you think we should start looking?” She questions.

 Rebecca’s inquiry makes Erica think about where the second tablet could be, and if memory serves her correctly then it should be somewhere on the second floor. It’s supposedly logged in between a vise — and with Erica’s superhuman strength getting it out will be easy peasy. All they need to do is find the room that it resides in. “We should go back to the main hall and start from there. I’m pretty positive one of the tablets is outside. It should be right behind the double doors the Bravo team and I entered through earlier.”

 The two of them nod before the trio heads back towards the way they came; all the way back to the main hall. When they reach the first floor, Billy speaks up. “Hey — ” He says, catching both Erica and Rebecca’s attention. He glances over to Erica. “Why don’t you go look for the other tablet, while Rebecca and I get the one from outside? It’ll save some time, and we can get out of here quicker.” 

 Erica is just about to protest the idea, but she bites her tongue. He isn’t wrong — it would be better for them to go looking for the safer option whilst she searches for the dangerous one. She gives it some thought before reluctantly agreeing. “I can’t say that’s a bad idea.”

 Rebecca immediately turns to her,  “Are you sure you want to split up? What if something happens — ”

 “She’ll be fine.” Billy interrupts, causing both women to peer up at him. “Did you see what she did to those things back there? If something goes wrong, I think she’ll be able to handle herself just fine.”

 Rebecca bites her lip, still uncertain about the three of them splitting up. Unfortunately, Billy is right; Erica can handle herself just fine. She doesn’t need to think about what Erica did to those monsters to believe him, and upon seeing his point she decides to drop hers. “You’re right…” She replies before turning to Erica. “But if you take too long we’re going to come looking for you.” She remarks, and the statement makes a smile spread across Erica’s lips. “Yes ma’am.” She nods, turning around and heading up the stairs. She ascends the second flight of stairs to enter the door across from her, and after it closes the both of them turn around to head outside.

 Erica enters a hallway that leads down towards a flight of stairs, but she ignores it to enter through the door across from her. She proceeds through it, where she finds herself in a room filled with old, dusty furniture and pieces of art. The paintings look dark and yellow, but she can feel their eyes staring at her from behind their dusty veil. She shudders before walking to the other side of the room. There’s a blue door with frilly, intricate designs in the wood, and just by standing in front of it she can sense something lurking around behind it. This time, however, it feels…different. It’s not like the other B.O.W.s — this is something else. Something strange yet familiar . She reaches forward, only to discover that the door is locked. She lets go of the handle and steps backward before running forward and kicking the door in. 

 The door slams open, and the loud crash catches the attention of a humanoid-like creature staggering at the end of the newly opened hallway. It turns around to start apprehending Erica, and upon a closer look she immediately notices that the monster is made up of small, black organisms — and she realizes that this is one of Marcus’s creations. The same Marcus that she came into contact with all those months ago; the same Marcus that infected this facility, the Arklay Facility, and the mountains around it. Her stomach tightens with disdain, and she grits her teeth, rushing forward to meet the slimy monster’s attack. “ Why don’t you DiE and StAy DeAd   you old bastard?! ” She snaps, and upon the statement exiting her lips the monster suddenly ignites into a giant ball of flames. It screeches out in pain and begins slamming its body from side to side in an attempt to put itself out. The heat of the fire makes her step back, and she squints her eyes, holding her arm up to shield her eyes from the blinding light. 

 The flames start to die out, and Erica lowers her arm to look down at the charred creature. She can still hear some of its flesh simmering, and her nose scrunches with disgust at the smell.  “ Gross .” She mutters, stepping over its remains to reach the end of the hallway. She opens the door at the very end of it — only to reveal another set of leech remains, still lit with tiny flames. Her brows furrow at the sight of it, curious as to how this one died. Maybe she killed this one when she killed the other one… She shrugs it off and steps over them to enter the door across the hall. 

 When she steps inside, the room is in complete disarray. The tables are askew, files and folders are scattered all over the place, chairs are toppled over or broken, and there’s a large puddle of blood to her right. She surmises that the puddle of blood must have belonged to the lone zombie stumbling on the other side of the room, evident from the large, red stain covering his abdomen. She ignores the zombie, instead walking over to the right side of the room where she finds a small workshop table around the corner. Not only does she find the table, but she finds the tablet she’s been looking for sitting right on top of it, lodged in between a vise. She approaches it and begins pulling on the vise, loosening it just enough for the tablet to be removed. It tips over to the side, prompting her to stop pulling. She grabs hold of it and wiggles it upwards, and it takes only a few wiggles for the tablet to slide right out. 

 After removing the tablet, she immediately starts heading back the way she came to meet back up with Billy and Rebecca. They’re probably already waiting for her to come back with the tablet, and she’s relieved to find that not only are they in the main hall when she returns, but they also possess the Discipline tablet. She approaches them with a faint smile; one that they all share upon seeing that they’d all acquired what they set out for. 

 “So what do we do now?” Billy asks, and Erica turns to him. “Now you follow me.” She says, and the three of them waste no time in heading back towards the way Erica just came. She leads them up towards the second floor, but instead of going through the door, she heads down the hall to the flight of stairs. The three continue up the flight of stairs, where they approach a set of double doors with two knights holding swords in front of them. Erica removes the swords, allowing them to enter through the doors and into the Observatory. Inside, there’s a huge telescope in the center of the room, alongside a lower level on the other side of it. There’s a ladder that leads down into the lower level, and the three of them walk around to the other side. They all climb down the ladder where they find a row of indentations that look eerily similar to the tablets they possess. They each put in a tablet, and as all three tablets settle into their place — a loud echo reverberates off of the Observatory’s walls.

 The floor starts to shake, and a moment later the building begins turning. Erica can hear the sound of rushing water surrounding the outside of the building. The three of them hold on to the nearby railing, confused as to what could be going on. The turning sequence lasts but only a couple of minutes before the building locks in place, coming to a complete and abrupt stop. As soon as everything stops moving, Erica looks around. 

 “Okay,” She says to herself before turning to the both of them. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

LOCATION: ┃The Church, Training Facility.
DATE: ┃ July 24th, 1998.
TIME: ┃02:48:42 AM.

⸺ . ⋆ ⼺☆⼺ ⋆ . ⸺

 Beyond the doors of the Observatory lies a stone bridge leading to a church, and upon seeing the house of worship, Erica can’t help but feel a small sense of irony. Of all things to be a part of the facility, she never would have guessed a church would be part of it. She brushes off her thoughts as the three of them approach the building, and once they reach an intersection in the walkway Billy turns to them. “I’m gonna go check out the left side,” He says, “You guys okay with checking the right?”

 Rebecca gives it some consideration before she nods. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.” She replies, and she looks to Erica who nods in agreement. 

 After splitting up to investigate their respective areas, Billy heads down the left side of the long pathway and around a few corners. As he rounds the last corner, he spots a metal gate at the end of the path. He makes his way towards it, but something out of the corner of his eye halts his short journey. It looks like an elevator, but as he tugs on the collapsible doors in front of it, he quickly realizes they’re locked shut. He presses the button located on the side of the elevator to see if anything will happen, but nothing. ‘It must not have any power.’ He thinks. He chooses to ignore the elevator for now and turns his attention back towards the metal gate. He walks over and makes an attempt to open it — only to learn that it’s locked from the other side. 

 He slips a hand through the metal bars in an attempt to unlock it, but it’s no use. ‘ Dammit . Is everything locked or out of power around here?’ He grunts, kicking at the metal gate out of frustration.

 Erica and Rebecca conveniently come around the corner as he turns around, and the two jog up to him to see what’s going on. When they come close, he greets them with a sigh. “It’s locked.” He says, shaking the gate to demonstrate the problem. 

 Erica gives the gate a quick glance over, “Don’t worry, I got it.”

 After the statement leaves her mouth, Billy promptly gets out of her way. Erica takes a small step back before she lifts her leg and kicks the gate inwards. The gate hits the fence behind it with a resounding ‘ clang ,’ and she steps into the tiny, grassy area. About ten feet to her right, she can spot something flashing a bright red. She advances towards it, and when she examines it closer it looks like some kind of lever. It’s facing downward, and for some reason she has the feeling she needs to push it upwards. She listens to her intuition and flips it up, and as soon as she does the light above the elevator flickers on. Billy and Rebecca immediately notice the new light source, and Erica does too when she returns from around the corner. That lever she just flipped must have powered on the elevator, and the thought makes her feel a small sense of confidence — confidence that she hopes will continue working in their favor.

 Billy presses the button on the right side of the elevator again, and this time the collapsible doors spread apart and disappear into the sides of the doorway. The elevator doors open right after, revealing a cramped space big enough to fit two small people. The compact space makes Billy realize that not only is he not going to be able to fit inside the elevator with them, but they’re also going to have to take turns going down. Seeing as Rebecca and Erica are much smaller than him, they should be the ones to go first. 

 “Ladies first.” He jokes, motioning towards the elevator.

 Rebecca playfully rolls her eyes as she steps inside, and Erica follows right behind her. She has to take off her backpack in order to get in, holding it over her head so it doesn’t invade Rebecca’s space. After squeezing themselves inside, the two of them look back at Billy. Rebecca holds a thumbs up, and Billy nods. He reaches over to press the elevator button again, and the collapsible doors close, followed by the elevator doors. The two women begin to descend below, and for a moment the elevator shakes. The movement makes Rebecca feel anxiety prickle the back of her neck, but before her fears can fester the elevator comes to a sudden stop. The doors on the opposite side of them shutter open, and when they turn around they get a glimpse of a long, destroyed hallway. There’s a large gate at the end of it, but ahead of them lies marble and concrete scattered across the floor, a couple of tattered paintings, and a mountain of rubble pile next to the elevator’s entrance. Erica gets a whiff of the area, and she frowns. This whole room is tainted in death; the stench that saturates these walls makes her feel nauseous, but she pushes her discomfort aside. She’s seen and smelled much worse than this. The sight of the eerie hallway makes Rebecca shudder, but she and Erica press on and step out of the elevator.

  After exiting the elevator, Erica presses the button located on the left side to send it back up to the surface. The old, creaky doors close, and they start patiently waiting for Billy to rejoin them. Once they regroup, the three of them move further down the hall to proceed through the only accessible door. Inside is a cramped library with books and documents strewn about; covered in trash and crumpled balls of paper. Furniture is toppled over, and there are dark, splotchy stains of dark brown on the floor. It wouldn’t be hard to imagine what its original color once was. They ignore the eerie scene and begin searching the room, and during his search Billy comes across a hole in the ceiling. The hole is big enough for him to see that there’s another room above them, and upon seeing it he furrows his brows. How the hell are they supposed to get up there? He left the hookshot somewhere back at the Training Facility — something he now regrets doing. 

 Erica walks up behind him as he internally berates himself for leaving it behind, and she looks up at the hole. She can hear something slithering around up there; it’s wet and sticky, and it makes her stomach gurgle with revulsion. From the sounds of it, she believes it might be another one of Marcus’s leech clones, and if that’s the case, she should be the one to head up there. 

 “There’s one of those leech monsters up there…” She says, and Billy glances over at her. It still weirds him out that she has the ability to sense those… things , but if it’s going to save him from having to interact with said things, then he’s not going to complain. However, he can’t help but wonder how she’s going to get up there. She seems to already have an idea as she takes off her backpack and holds it out to him. “Hold this for me?” She asks, and a nearby Rebecca furrows her brows. “What are you about to do?” She questions. 

 “I’ll show you.” Erica replies. She slowly squats down before forcefully jumping upwards, launching herself up into the room above. A surprised gasp slips past Rebecca’s lips and she rushes over to see where Erica had gone. Erica successfully lands on the second floor and almost loses her balance, and as she steadies herself she can hear something approaching her. It’s a leech clone — just like she suspected — and she immediately takes action to get rid of it. She commands it to burn like its brethren, and the monster instantaneously combusts and dies. Its burnt body turns to ash, and after the last flame fizzles out she starts to look around the room. The first thing she notices is a door right across from her, but she ignores it to snoop through desk drawers and sift through documents. The only useful thing she manages to find among the sea of papers is a map of the laboratory, and she picks it up to toss down to her companions below. She walks over and peers down into the hole.

 “Hey!” She calls out from above, “I found this!” She squats down to drop the map to them, and Rebecca reaches up to catch the loose paper. She holds it up to take a look at it before angling it towards Billy. He takes a quick gander, and after he’s done inspecting it she pockets it. The two look back towards Erica, and Rebecca speaks up. “Is there anything else up there?” She questions.

 “No.” Erica frowns, “But there’s another door in here. I’m going to go through it and see if I can find anything else. Wait here for a second.” She gets up and turns around to go through said door, and she finds herself in a much smaller corridor. There’s a door in front of her and another to her left, and to her right is a short sharp turn that leads to a third door. She chooses to go right and walks around the corner to find some sort of button on the wall. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she presses it. Not long after the click of the button hits her ears, she can hear something heavy lock into place. It sounds like it came from somewhere below, and she heads right back into the room she came from to see if Billy and Rebecca heard it, too. 

 When she returns, the two of them are still in their respective places, waiting for her to come back with new information. “What was that noise?” Rebecca asks when she sees Erica’s head bob into view. There was a loud boom from outside the library door just a moment ago, and Rebecca wanted to go check it out, but Billy stopped her and said they should wait for Erica to come back. Luckily, that didn’t take very long.  

 “I hit a switch and must have triggered something.” Erica explains, “I’m not sure what it did, though.”

 “Well, get down here and we’ll go check it out.” Rebecca says, waving for her to come back down. “Alright.” Erica nods, and Rebecca and Billy move out from underneath the hole so she can jump down. After she makes her landing, Billy hands back her backpack, and Erica takes it from him with a thankful smile. “Thanks.”

 Billy gives a single nod of acknowledgement. “No problem.”

  The three of them leave the room to go inspect the loud noise from a moment ago, trailing one by one out the door. When they look to their left, they notice that the gate that was blocking off the hallway earlier has now been lifted. Rebecca and Billy eagerly start heading towards the newly opened area, but Erica stops them. She can sense another monster up ahead, and she doesn’t keep that fact from them. They take her warning seriously, continuing with full caution as they near a corner. Erica stops ahead of them and peers her head around the corner, and at the end of the hall is yet another leech monster. Just beyond the nightmarish figure is a door with James Marcus’s profile etched into the wood, and right below the profile is an indention that mimics the parasites that are stumbling around the hallway now. 

 Erica makes a face of irritation at the sight of the disgusting creature. She’s had more than enough of these repulsive things. “I’m getting sick and tired of your bullshit , Marcus.” She mutters under her breath, “ BuRn AlReAdY. ”

 Her words make the monster burst into flames like the ones before it, and the three of them watch as it blows up in a fiery roar. As it starts to burn, Rebecca can’t help but focus on what Erica just said. How did she know the monster’s name? Was it the same Marcus whose portrait was hanging up in the main hall of the Training Facility? What does she know about him? What did she mean by ‘sick’ and ‘tired’? Has she dealt with him before? It’s starting to eat away at her now — wondering how Erica knows all these things. She has to say something or else she’s going to lose her mind overthinking it. She’s just about to voice her concerns when she’s interrupted by Erica running forward and kicking in the door ahead of them.

 The room Erica has just broken into is dark and dusty, illuminated by the light of a fish tank filled with nasty, murky water. The odor of fish combined with the stinging stench of dust lingers in the walls and carpet. Walls of books adorn the north and far right wall, with the fish tank sitting to the far left, and at the other end of the room is a desk and leather chair. Rebecca and Billy follow right behind Erica and start looking around, and as they begin searching something glimmers out of the corner of Rebecca’s eye. She retraces her steps to catch the glimmer again, and when she focuses on it she walks up to one of the bookshelves to find…er, something . It doesn’t look like it belongs on a bookshelf, that’s for sure. She picks it up to show the others, holding it up so they can get a good look at it. “What’s this?” She asks.

 Erica and Billy turn around to inspect what she just found, and neither one of them can make out what the strange trinket is. Erica’s intuition is telling her that it’s meant for something else in the facility, but she can’t exactly remember what for. Its technological appearance could be used for many things, and it would take a while trying to narrow down the possibilities. Rebecca takes a long look at the item before she decides to pocket it anyways. She probably won’t need it, but one can never be too sure. 

 The group starts looking around the room some more before they all agree that there’s nothing else for them to do there. They exit the tiny study and step back out into the hall where they choose the only door they haven’t been through yet. It’s locked at first — until Erica kicks it in, revealing a large room with a cable car sitting in the middle of it. It’s still in good condition compared to the rest of the building, but from the obvious lack of power it looks like it isn’t in as good condition as initially thought. To the left of the car is a short railing that presides over what sounds to be a waterfall. The room is cold and wet, and the heavy stench of mold and mildew is thick in the air. The smell makes Erica sick to her stomach, but her nausea subsides when she spots Billy squatting down to pick something up off of the floor. He inspects the foreign object before turning around to face the others. “Any idea of what this is for?”

 The two women approach to check it out for themselves, but even they aren’t able to figure out what it’s for. Rebecca looks away in thought, and her eyes flick to the cable car. As she looks at it, she wonders if the strange object might have anything to do with the cable car. Her thoughts start to trail off as she watches Billy begin investigating the rest of the room. He walks to the other end of the room and when he looks up, he’s met with the image of yet another hole in the ceiling, exposing another room above. His attention immediately shifts over to the others, “Hey!” He calls out, his voice echoing through the damp chamber. “There’s another room up here!”

 Erica and Rebecca walk over to him and look up at the ceiling. There’s a dim light coming from the hole, but none of them can make out what’s in the room above them. It’s quiet, and the only sound Erica can identify is the buzz of an electric current. As far as she can sense, there are no B.O.W.s, either. Believing the coast is clear, she starts to remove her backpack. Rebecca watches her, and as she does she gets an idea. She pulls the object she found in the study out of her pocket and groups it together with the one they just found in front of the cable car. She holds them out to her, and Erica looks at the items before Rebecca.

 “I think you should take these up there with you.” Rebecca says.

 Erica isn’t entirely sure why Rebecca wants her to take the items with her, but she nods and takes them from her in exchange for the other to hold her backpack. Rebecca takes her backpack from her, and Erica walks directly under the hole to ready herself. She firmly plants her feet on the ground, squats, and lunges up towards the ceiling where she lands on the floor of a control room. There’s a control panel in front of her, and in the center of it is an empty battery compartment. Coincidentally, the battery compartment’s shape happens to resemble the objects she holds in her hands. “Well, what do you know?” She jokes to herself. She proceeds to put the parts into their proper places, and when they slip into place the entire control panel lights up. Red, green, and yellow lights alike flicker on, followed by the sound of a powerful whirr. 

 Down below, Rebecca and Billy turn around to witness the cable car powering to life. The lights in the cable car turn on, and they can hear its sliding doors unlock. A rush of relief washes over them, and Billy turns his attention up to the ceiling. “Erica!” He yells, “The cable car just started up! Come back down!”

 Upon hearing his words, Erica makes her way back over to the hole to jump down. She lands on her feet with a thud, and she looks over to find Billy and Rebecca already waiting for her at the cable car. She runs over to regroup with them, but just before she reaches them she stops in her tracks. Her stomach clenches tightly, and her heart starts to pound. She starts to frantically look around the room — terrified as she searches for whatever creature just entered the vicinity. 

 Rebecca and Billy immediately notice her worried expression, but before they get the chance to say anything a loud screech echoes through the room. Erica’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach as she watches one of those horrid apes from earlier jump towards Billy and Rebecca. As if on instinct, she runs and leaps in its direction, preventing its claws from slashing at them. Unfortunately, this action causes her to accidentally launch herself over the railing. She doesn’t have enough time to prevent her fall before she disappears into the darkness below, and the last thing she can make out is the sound of Rebecca and Billy calling out her name in horror.

 “ ERRIICCAA!!! ”

⋆

LOCATION: ┃███.
DATE: ┃ July 24th, 1998.
TIME: ┃██:██:██ ██.