A Story of Two Deaths

By evolution-500

Genre: Horror/Suspense

Disclaimer: House of the Dead and Resident Evil are properties belonging to SEGA and Capcom respectively. I do not own any of these characters.

WARNING: This story contains violence, coarse language, disturbing themes and imagery. Reader discretion is advised.

"The road to death is a lonely highway, and longer than it appears, even when it leads straight down from the scaffold, by way of a rope; and it's a dark road, with never any moon shining on it, to light your way."

- Margaret Atwood

September 30, 1998 - Raccoon City Sewers

It was the crackling of the radio that woke him.

Stirring back to consciousness, the dark figure groaned as he pushed himself off the floor, his breath muffled by the modified black FM12-Israeli 4A1 hybrid gas mask on his face, his head throbbing, even with the black Personnel Armor System for Ground Troops kevlar helmet that he wore.

Wincing, he swallowed back bile as nausea set in, his vision ebbing slightly before clearing up, allowing him to properly see through the red-covered lenses of his mask as he found himself staring at the bodies of his unit.

Shaking off his stupor, HUNK glanced around at the deceased Umbrella Security Services soldiers that scattered around him, each body in different poses and in varying degrees of preservation. Some of them were practically nothing more than fleshy ribbons, while others had been dismembered or crushed.

One or two had some rats gnawing through one of the eye sockets.

As one rat started to approach him, HUNK drew out Matilda, a three-round burst 9mm pistol that was similar to the Heckler & Koch VP70, and offered it a kindly greeting, the shot sending it to its maker, causing the others to disperse and flee from the bodies.

Shaking his head, HUNK steadied himself against a wall as he felt the ringing in his ears slowly dissipate, the radio becoming less distorted and more audible, allowing him to finally hear what was being said.

"This is Nighthawk. Come in, Alpha. Alpha, do you read?" The radio crackled. "Alpha Team, do you read? This is Nighthawk."

Lifting a hand, HUNK opened a pouch on his hip and glanced down, studying its contents.

The G-samples were undamaged. Good.

Exhaling through his mask slightly in relief, HUNK then pressed into the receiver and spoke, "Alpha Team here. Respond."

There came a slight pause at the other end. Finally, there came a response.

"This is Nighthawk. I read you loud and clear. What's your sit-rep?"

"I have secured G. I am all that is left of Alpha Team."

"Heh. Once again, only you survived, Mr. Death," Nighthawk mused. "Your location?"

"I'm at Point K12. I need info on my extraction."

"I'm headed towards the front gate of R.P.D. I'll try to pick you up there if I can, but be advised, some serious shit has been going down on the surface."

The urgency in which Nighthawk spoke made HUNK give pause. "How bad is it out there?"

"Real fucking bad, that's what," came the response. "It's absolute insanity out here. There's a giant gaping hole the size of a skyscraper in the downtown area and I'm seeing scores of creatures pouring out from it."

HUNK hesitated. "Say again, Nighthawk. I think I misheard."

"You haven't. Trust me, it's bad. Like, gates-of-hell/Judgment Day/end of the world bad, and if I were you, I'd get the hell out of there as fast as possible - chances are these goddamn things will be swarming all over your location in no time."

The USS operative nodded. "Acknowledged. I'll see you at the rendezvous point."

"Roger that. Don't be late. Good luck, Mr. Death. Over and out."

As Nighthawk signed off, HUNK frowned beneath his gas mask.

If what was said was true, then he was in a tight spot with a very short window, in which case he needed to be prepared.

He was a bit puzzled by the reference to the "skyscraper-sized" hole and the mention of "scores of creatures", but right now he needed to focus on getting out of here.

Looking down at his combat vest, the USS operative studied his inventory, taking note of his weapons, starting with the LE 5 submachine gun. A thirty-two round beast that packed a punch and was highly accurate, the LE 5 was standard issue arsenal for the majority of USS soldiers.

Checking the magazine, HUNK carefully examined its condition, then quickly counting the number of bullets he had, leaving nothing to chance. Once he was satisfied, the soldier then slapped the magazine back into place and reloaded before checking his next weapon - the W-870 twelve-gauge pump-action shotgun, a formidable monster with an eight-round capacity, its sturdy steel making it both reliable and easy to control.

One by one, he quickly looked over every weapon within his arsenal with stone-cold professionalism - from his MUP pistol and his Lightning Hawk Magnum to his Combat Knife.

Once he was finished, HUNK carefully made note of how many grenades and magazines he had, then quickly scavenged some extra weapons and magazines from the bodies of his fallen comrades until he was certain that he had more than enough.

As he loaded up the last of the magazines, part of HUNK thought back to that creature Birkin had come, a scowl present on his face, though obscured by the gasmask.

Bloody Martinez.

Orders had been to take Birkin alive, but the fool was too itchy with the trigger for his own good. If only Martinez had the foresight to have double-tapped and made certain that Birkin had stayed dead.

Staring down at his body, HUNK regarded the rookie with contempt.

Such was the price for such recklessness; because of him, Birkin infected himself with the G-Virus, and now he was on the loose.

Tilting his gasmask in thought, the operative listened carefully for its presence, watching and waiting for it to make itself known.

Once he was certain that he was the only one standing, HUNK started to finish up collecting the necessary gear, paying no mind to his former companions.

'There. It's finished,' came the thought.

As long as he minded his surroundings and wasn't too trigger-happy, he can make it out of this.

However, even the best-prepared soldier knew that one should never let their guard down, especially in hostile territory.

Lifting up his LE 5, HUNK rolled his shoulders and proceeded on into the dark, determined to find his way back to the surface.

* * * * *

Navigating his way through the maze-like labyrinth was no easy feat, but HUNK was a man of focus and determination; nothing would stand in his way. Whether it was being hip-deep in sewage or knee-deep in bodies, nothing was going to stop him from completing his objective

He had started off by sliding down into the bottom portion of the Lower Waterway, then kept running straight, dashing past various creatures that emerged from the water.

He mainly encountered zombies, although he also had a few close calls with some dogs that somehow managed to find their way down here.

A few spiders had grown to gigantic proportions and crawled along the walls and ceiling, but it was nothing that the W-870 couldn't handle.

The most surprising encounters were with different variants of zombie that he had never seen nor heard of before; one such variant was a loathsome, slime-covered thing that looked more like a skeleton held together by moss. There would be dozens of the things, usually submerged in a pool somewhere lying in wait, and whenever HUNK was close enough, they would attempt to ambush him en masse and latch onto him.

Despite being so brittle, they were surprisingly strong, and more than once HUNK found himself nearly submerged by the blasted things as they all attempted to bite into his combat armor.

Thankfully their bites were never able to tear into the kevlar, but the sheer persistence of the things made them irritating.

Another variant of zombie, though less frequently encountered, was by far the strangest, what appeared to be some sort of ivy-hybrid; a shirtless zombie with long, whip-like vines for arms that wandered absent-mindedly around with roots protruding out from its head, chest, legs and one of its eye sockets.

He was quick to put it out of its misery, and yet, something about these newer variants couldn't help striking him as seeming off. He tried to put a finger on what it was about them that was so unusual, but HUNK merely shrugged it off and filed it away in the back of his mind.

He would think about it later - right now he needed to find a way up.

For the majority of the time, HUNK tried to keep to the side of the zombies that were already walking around. They were typically easy to evade, but once or twice HUNK would fire off a headshot or punt one out of his way in order to progress.

Once he had reached the far end of the Waterway, the USS operative started climbing up a ladder.

Taking a right through an arched brick tunnel, HUNK tried to ignore the smell of wet feces as he hurried past some zombies that rose up out of the pool beside him.

Over the radio, the operative heard the countless cries of civilians and police officers calling for help, the sounds of gunfire, of discord, and despair.

A radio host was laughing and crying simultaneously in despair, all the while screaming into the microphone, "IT'S OVER, MAN! WE'RE SCREWED! IT'S OVER! WE'RE SCREWED!"

He heard women's screams turned to horrid shrieks of agony as they were being eaten alive, the sounds accompanied by moans and chewing, of flesh tearing.

He heard a child calling out for his mommy, only for him to let out a soul-tearing shriek.

For every narrow corridor travelled, for every climb up a ladder or stairway, HUNK remained completely silent, unmoved as heard the various screams and cries begging for help, unmoved by a city dying one person at a time.

One voice, however, caught his attention, making him pause, if only briefly.

"Alpha...Team..." A female voice gasped into the radio. "Goblin-6. Currently at Point K12 in the sewers...I...I can't move..."

Blinking in surprise, HUNK gave a slight glance over his shoulder.

Goblin-6 was another member from his team, the only female within Alpha. From the way she grit her teeth into the radio, she seemed to have been incapacitated, if not injured.

Turning his head, HUNK continued forward, not saying a word.

"Requesting assistance," Goblin-6 called into the radio. "I repeat. Requesting assistance."

HUNK resumed on, not bothering to heed her calls.

"No! Don't leave me here!" She begged, practically shrieking into the radio. "Please!"

Finally, he spoke into the radio. "This is war," HUNK said in a cold and pitiless voice, "... survival's your responsibility."

And with that, he answered no more.

He didn't know what happened to Goblin-6, nor did he inquire any further; instead, he remained focused on the objective, moving past every obstacle in his way, shooting and killing whenever necessary.

* * * * *

Climbing up the ladder to the Control Room, HUNK immediately dashed right past the Zombie Dogs in the room, hopping down a damaged lift before they were able to attack, slamming a door behind him.

The dogs barked impotently from behind it, unable to follow as they slammed their combined weight into the frame.

Scoffing, HUNK allowed a small smirk to form beneath his gasmask.

Stupid animals.

However, that elation faltered when he found himself stumbling upon something unexpectedly new.

Somewhere up ahead within the sewer tunnels, he heard the unmistakable growls of a charging Hunter, which made the soldier tense up in alert.

He didn't see them anywhere, but the mere fact that they were present made the USS operative all the more cautious.

After all, where there was one Hunter present, a second would follow, and the reptilian hybrids were dangerous in pairs.

Lifting his submachine gun, HUNK braced himself for a subsequent encounter, if not ambush...but that never came.

Instead, he heard something crumble somewhere up ahead, as if a large weight had smashed its way through an entire foundation of some structure or section of wall. As bricks and debris clattered and pebbled into the pool ahead of him, there came an unholy bellow, a sound so loud and powerful that it echoed throughout the tunnel and made the operative flinch.

What the hell was that?!

Wrinkling his brows together, HUNK crouched low navigated his way forward, listening to the Hunter as it gave an uncharacteristically shrill squeal.

The hell? Was it...scared?

The bellow echoed again, followed by a series of loud tramples and thuds.

Something cracked and crunched on impact, causing a wall nearby to shake, the reptilian hybrid eliciting loud horrific shrieks as something big started to tear and bludgeon it to death, the blows so loud and impactful that it made the pool that HUNK stood in ripple.

Staying low, the operative took a passage to the left, doing everything possible to keep quiet, even going so far as to mask his own footsteps.

Whatever had gotten that Hunter was big, and based on the snapping, crunching and slurping noises, it was more than hungry.

Part of him had wondered if it were Birkin at first...but that train of thought was halted when he had gotten his first look at the thing.

Through some small cracks that peered into an adjacent chamber, HUNK initially saw nothing but shadows.

Scanning from left to right, the soldier froze as he spotted a large dark shape, its outline barely visible within the darkness.

He couldn't tell what it was, but just from the few glimpses of it that he got, it was big.

Very big.

And boy, was it ugly.

Kneeling with its back facing HUNK was a giant - a massive, towering figure of muscle with a hulking, barrel-like chest. He estimated that the thing must have been over fifteen feet tall with pale, flaking skin and gnarled rat-like ears, its head wearing an officer's cap.

Wearing the tattered remains of what appeared to be a blue security uniform, it sat hunched over, holding in one apish hand the handle of what looked to be some sort of improvised weapon - a disgusting club decorated with skulls and coated with slime - that rested by his side.

Raising up the other monstrous paw, it hungrily consumed a handful of viscera in a manner akin to a child enjoying an apple.

Wrapped around its torso and its arms was a great chain, but it was the weapon itself that drew HUNK's immediate interest and concern.

Bio-organic weapons created by the T-Virus rarely demonstrated advanced cognitive abilities, if ever, so the fact the creature was armed indicated some measure of intelligence compared to the standard zombie.

It was far bigger than any zombie HUNK had ever seen, but it wasn't malformed as a Tyrant was, which made the operative somewhat intrigued.

'What are you?' he wondered.

HUNK watched with morbid fascination as the creature ate, staying perfectly still.

Once it finished ingesting the Hunter's organs, it peeled the flesh off its skull with its teeth, pulling apart its latest prey as one would a lobster.

Lifting the now freshly-stripped skull to its club, the beast tilted its head from side to side, moving the Hunter skull from one position to another, as if trying to determine where to put it.

Once it found a spot, the creature then started to make a series of heaving noises with its throat.

Hurk. Hurk. Hurk.

Furrowing his brows in confusion, HUNK tried to make sense of what was happening when the creature just...unhinged...its jaws, opening its mouth so wide that it stretched the top part of its face all the way up at a completely unnatural one hundred and eighty degree angle.

HUNK was viscerally reminded of a boa constrictor or anaconda in the way it opened.

As it finished opening its mouth, it made a horrible gurgling noise at the back of its throat and projectile vomited.

HAWWWWWWW.

A loathsome stream of thick, chunky and viscous liquid, all light brown in color and steamy, suddenly started to geyser all over the skull, coating it in heavy layers.

HAWWWWWWW!

HUNK winced as he struggled to keep down his lunch, watching the beast spew what could only be described as gallons upon gallons of sick.

Jesus Christ, the smell!

Even with the gasmask on, he could still smell its disgusting fishy breath!

Just when HUNK thought that he was about to lose it, the creature's vomit started to lessen and harden into some type of solid resin, securing the skull in place.

'So that's how you make your weapons, huh?' HUNK thought with loathing.

A disgusting method, to be sure, although he had to give the creature credit for its crude yet effective display of ingenuity.

Running an approving hand over its new "decoration", the beast reared itself onto its hindlegs and rose to its full height, letting out a deep, bellowing roar of rage and insatiable hunger before smashing its way through a wall, leaving nothing behind but the stripped carcass of its meal.

HUNK waited a minute, then two.

Once he was certain that it was gone, HUNK raised a radio.

"Nighthawk, this is Alpha Team," he spoke in a hushed and low tone. "I have encountered an unknown species of B.O.W. Please advice."

"Nighthawk here," the radio crackled. "What's the situation?"

"I'm heading to the parking garage, but there is an unknown B.O.W. down here with me, what appears to be some sort of giant security guard with a club made from skulls."

"A giant what?!"

"I say again, a giant security guard," HUNK repeated. "I think it's some sort of Tyrant, but if it is, it's not one that I recognize. It doesn't seem to be wearing any form of Power Limiter on its being, though it's possible that it's hidden by the creature's clothing. It doesn't demonstrate any of the usual traits of a Tyrant save for its height. It also spews out some sort of resin and demonstrates some level of intelligence. I just saw it kill a Hunter and add its skull to its club."

He waited on the line for a moment, hearing the pilot huffing.

"I don't know anything about a giant security guard. I'm going to check in with HQ and see what they have to say. Keep moving to the LZ while you wait on the line. I'll try to get back to you."

"Roger." With that, HUNK signed off, his LE 5 primed and ready as he slowly scanned his surroundings.

Several meters in, the operative came across a sight that took him by surprise - a T-00 lying on the floor, completely and utterly eviscerated, its hat and coat shredded.

Staring at the mangled carcass, HUNK tilted his gas mask in interest, studying its remains.

Vast portions of it had been consumed whole, the thing practically stripped down to the bone, while its massive skull was absent.

The T-00s were formidable B.O.W.s, one of the strongest combat units that Umbrella had within its arsenal, so for this thing to tear into a "Mr. X" Tyrant model as if it were tissue paper spelled bad news.

Hearing his radio go off, HUNK pressed into the receiver. "Alpha Team here. Over."

"This is Nighthawk," the radio crackled. "I've checked with HQ regarding this new B.O.W. So far no one is able to verify where it came from."

The operative digested the information, tilting his helmet in thought. "Could it be the work of a rogue researcher?"

Nighthawk clicked his tongue, "It's possible. What, are you thinking it's one of Birkin's?"

"Negative," HUNK answered. "I've found a recently killed body of a T-00. It looks like the creature managed to subdue and completely devour it. Several of its bones are completely broken."

He heard the pilot hum thoughtfully. "Sounds like a tough fucking customer if it was able to beat down a T-00. I have no idea what the hell you managed to stumble upon, but my advice to you? Watch your back."

"Roger that," HUNK spoke into the radio. "I'll try to get to the surface as fast as I can."

"See you on the flipside. Over and out."

With that last utterance, the radio cut out, leaving the Umbrella operative alone with his thoughts.

So nobody knew about this thing? Huh. Interesting.

Rolling his shoulder slightly, HUNK adjusted his grip on the LE 5, its weight offering some measure of assurance to the soldier.

Climbing out of the water onto a solid floor, HUNK hurried his step, always keeping his guard up as he continued to progress further, taking a left through a narrow passage filled with pipes.

As he exited the doorway, the wall to his right erupted, startling the operative.

"JESUS!" He shouted, skidding to a halt as he finally saw the creature in all of its horrible glory.

Looming before him on a pair of strong, sturdy legs was a hulking brute clad in the filthy, tattered, mold-covered torn remnants of a security guard uniform, his shoes long rotted off at the soles, exposing dirty feet with long cracked toe nails. Wrapped in chains, its wrists and ankles were bound in thick manacles, its skin a pasty grey with various tears, as if the muscle and bone growth had been so sudden that it tore through its own flesh.

The face was long and disturbingly skull-like face, with beady, glowing yellow eyes that hungrily regarded HUNK, its short, gnarled, rat-like ears wriggling slightly, its lipless gore-covered mouth oozing thick trails of saliva down its long pronounced chin and jaw.

Letting out a roar of rage and insatiable hunger, the creature reared back its arm and swung its mighty club, smashing through the top section of the doorway.

Leaping out of the way, HUNK narrowly dodged to the side as he fired his submachine gun, the bullets pelting its face and part of its head.

Rolling to the left, the operative evaded its massive foot as it slammed down onto the concrete floor, creating a massive outline of its own foot in the ground with various spider cracks.

Getting back up to his feet, HUNK hurried his step with the creature in pursuit, firing over his shoulder at the charging titan.

Moving through the Monitor Room, he found it was filled to the brim with zombies, but thankfully they were all too busy eating a corpse to notice him.

Pushing one out of the way and striking another, HUNK shoved another into the direction of his pursuer, running as fast as he could before taking a left into the Treatment Plant Room...where he found more goddamned zombies inside.

Along with a bunch of hungry infected dogs.

Cursing under breath, HUNK sprayed short controlled bursts from his submachine gun, tearing through the animals as they attempted charge along the narrow bridge.

As he crossed bridge, he heard the thundering loud footsteps from behind, each footfall making the water splash into the air.

Clenching his mouth, HUNK swapped his LE 5 for the shotgun. "You gotta be kidding me," he muttered before firing at the charging behemoth, his shots striking its thick skull. "Back off!"

One shot blasted off its hat, while two others completely ripped the flesh off from its face, revealing exposed muscle.

The seventh shot caused it to stumbled backward, giving HUNK much needed respite, albeit temporarily.

'Almost there,' he thought.

Once he was out of its line of sight, he was certain that the creature would lost interest and move on.

After all, from all indications, there was no shortage of potential food down here given the various zombies and creatures, so there was no reason for it to continue its hunt.

With that thought in mind, the operative continued forward, focused on completing his objective and getting out of this hellhole.

* * * * *

He had severely underestimated the creature's tenacity.

Gritting his teeth beneath his gasmask, HUNK fired off several shots from his submachine gun as he backpedaled, watching the rounds pinged off of its head.

Twenty rounds into its skull, and the goddamned thing was still moving!

The creature had finally faltered and retreated back into the shadows after the thirtieth round struck its dome, but HUNK was beginning to realize it was only temporary.

Following their initial encounter, the giant had doggedly pursued him with a singlemindedness that was grating on the normally reserved soldier.

It would often turned up in the most unexpected ways, sometimes bursting through walls, floors and ceilings, while other times it would lie in wait somewhere up ahead and try to ambush him.

It was also far cleverer than HUNK cared to admit; not only was the creature able to perfectly navigate its away through this whole maze with ease and track him, but it was surprisingly intelligent enough to lay down traps of its own.

One such trap was what could only be described as a disgusting collection of zombie torsos ripped off from their lower halves and painfully forced together into a horribly twisted human bear trap, one designed to purposefully ensnare potential victims with dozens of thrashing arms. All of the zombies' jaws and teeth were forcefully torn off, leaving some with only a pair of eyes, while others would have no faces whatsoever.

Once or twice HUNK would find himself caught by one of the damned things, often in the water, where they would be carefully hidden until he stepped within range.

Prying the damned things off was often a difficult undertaking, sometimes requiring massive amounts of ammunition to be wasted in order to dispose of one or two of things, just to get away.

He had to admit, whatever the damned creature was, its ingenuity made it a worthy adversary, albeit a troubling one.

Discharging his shotgun into the zombie's head, HUNK moved past the rest to the door at the end of the room and headed down the stairs, giving three crawling zombies a wide berth as he headed down to the Bottom Waterway, capping a lurking zombie on the left in head.

Ducking past several creatures through an opened gate, the Umbrella operative tossed one of the grenades at the rest up ahead, switching to his submachine gun as the subsequent blast tore them all apart.

Running past their remains, he crossed the bridge and climbed up a set of stairs to an open gate that lead into the Upper Waterway, where two mutated creatures and a few zombies greeted him, the former causing HUNK to give pause and take in their appearance.

The creatures were massive humanoids and grey in appearance, having hands and feet with digits like a human, but one arm was disproportionately larger than the other, while its left leg was completely swollen. A pair of long, lizard-like tails dragged behind them, while on their backs were enormous, pulsating, tumor-like growths that gave the creatures asymmetrical shapes, more to one side of their bodies than on the other.

However, the most distinctive feature of these beings were the giant eyeballs close to their left shoulders, which HUNK noticed right away and tilt his helmet in interest.

Those eyeball-like growths...were these...Birkin's?

He narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on his weapon.

It would seem that Birkin had been busy in his mutated state.

HUNK didn't know how these particular creatures were made, but from all indications, they were going to be obstacles.

Clinging to the right wall, he hurried past them, shoulder-checking one zombie out of the way before slamming the butt of his weapon into another's face.

The USS soldier grunted as he felt a vice-like grip around his torso, his form lifted up into the air by one enlarged arm as its owner snarled at him, baring its sharp teeth.

Grabbing his knife, he stabbed into its head, causing it to drop him to the ground with a loud shriek before the other one started to charge him.

As it raised up one limb toward him, the security guard crashed through a wall and tackled the G-mutant, letting out a bellowing roar as it held it down with one apish paw.

Struggling beneath its grip, the G-mutant tried to break free, and for a brief moment, HUNK almost pitied the beast as it was clubbed to death by the larger adversary.

Turning its attention over to this new threat, the other G-mutant hissed, ignoring the Umbrella operative as it moved toward the security guard, allowing HUNK to keep moving along the right wall until he was finally able to get out of the water.

Darting past a zombie, HUNK heard the security guard bellow in rage as the former moved onto some catwalks above the Upper Waterway, the operative skillfully dodging a lurking zombie before taking a quick right into the Workers' Break Room, where he then headed for the elevator going into the Underground Facility.

* * * * *

Once the elevator finished its climb, the operative found himself confronted by a cluster of zombies waiting at the bottom of the stairwell.

Upon seeing him, the creatures started to approach, moaning in hunger, their blank eyes staring fixedly in his direction.

Taking out a grenade, HUNK primed it, then tossed it into the crowd, counting down until the subsequent explosion cleared the area, splattering the room with gore.

Stepping over the pulped remains, he took the first exit going up the stairs, then headed down a long hall, his LE 5 ready to deal with whatever hostile he came across.

Hearing a loud screech, HUNK hesitated at the sight an approaching Licker, its fleshless, frog-like body and oversized mole-like foreclaws latching onto the wall like a gecko.

Dropping down to the floor, the creature raised its eyeless head in the operative's direction, prompting to raise his submachine gun at its exposed brain as it hissed.

For three minutes, the air was tense as HUNK fearlessly stared the creature down, his heart racing underneath his kevlar vest.

Finally, the Licker turned away and sauntered off, grunting as it climbed up onto the opposite wall, allowing him to pass.

Untensing, HUNK proceeded forward, his steps light and quiet.

He had made it four feet away when there came a loud crash somewhere behind him, followed by a familiar bellow.

Son of a-!

Hearing the Licker's shriek, HUNK turned to see the Licker charge off in the direction of the heavy stomping footsteps.

Cursing under his breath, he quickened his pace, running full speed until he was able to reach the Machine Room, where he then headed along a long catwalk and ran past various zombies as they struggled to rise. It wasn't easy navigating his through all the various bodies, but once he reached the next part of the catwalk, he bolted for the Safe Room, ducking out of the way as a pair of Cerberus dogs came leaping out. Swapping his LE 5 for the shotgun, he fired at the animals, completely beheading one and incapacitating the other, causing it to tumble with a whine, allowing HUNK to turn on his heel and flee up a ladder.

* * * * *

Pushing the manhole cover up, HUNK shoved it aside with a grunt as he found himself in the Parking Garage of the Raccoon City Police Department.

Around him, various parked vehicles greeted him along with a large gate leading to the outside, where he heard screams, gunfire and moans.

Night had fallen over Raccoon City, and with it came the nightmares.

Once he finished climbing up out of the sewer, HUNK became aware of several moans close by as he was soon joined by several freshly turned police officers that started to appear, the undead beings lumbering toward him.

Shaking his head in derision, the USS soldier started to run past them toward the gate, hanging to the right. Pulling out a flashbang, HUNK tossed it an approaching horde, producing a blinding flash that stunned the creatures, allowing HUNK to slip away past them through the door into the hallway.

As he closed the door behind him, HUNK froze as he spotted a Licker waiting on the ceiling at the end of the hall.

Goddamn it, things just couldn't get any worse.

Hearing a crash outside followed by several car alarms going off, HUNK heard the Licker shriek and hurry in the direction of the sound, leaving the operative alone as it slipped through a vent.

A familiar bellow marked the presence of his hated foe.

"You have got to be joking," HUNK muttered as he darted down the right passage towards the Kennels.

What would it take to get this fucker off his tail?!

Shooting a pair of Cerberus dogs that were in his way, HUNK bolted as fast as he could out the room, kicking aside a legless zombie as it pitifully attempted to crawl toward him.

* * * * *

His opponent was getting closer.

Room after room, the creature doggedly pursued after him, busting through doorways and walls as it maniacally swung its club, battering away any that dared get in its way, be it some piece of furniture, stray zombie or wandering B.O.W.

Bodies, chairs and desks were smashed aside effortlessly, as if they were nothing more than paper weights, while a few were crushed underneath its trampling feet and/or tossed through the air.

One wild swing nearly beheaded the operative; if it hadn't been for one unfortunate zombie that had inadvertently taken the blow for HUNK, he would have been killed instantly.

The operative shuddered at the memory of its blood-gushing torso as it wandered around, of its head completely splattering against a boarded-up window.

Usually HUNK would try ducking in and out of rooms in order to avoid the beast's maniacal swings, while other times he would find himself looping around and attempt to misdirect his enemy.

Sometimes the latter would work, but the creature was stubborn in its determination.

Climbing up the stairs to the first floor of the Police Station, HUNK made it past the Break Room Hall shutter before making his way into the East Hall, where he cleared out a zombie in front of the East Office and headed inside.

Reloading his LE 5, HUNK swore as he took stock of his ammunition.

His supplies were running out, and quickly. Every step forward was marked with gunfire or some explosion, and with each shot or grenade thrown was a resource lost.

Slipping into the Main Hall, HUNK cursed his luck as he found the front door blocked and the place swarming with zombies.

Upon seeing the latter, the operative hesitated, taking notice of something...odd.

For whatever reason, a lot of the zombies looked identical to one another; from the way they looked, the color of their skin and hair, to the way some of them dressed, they looked like perfect copies.

The hell...?

Shaking off his stupor, HUNK proceeded to take a right past the West Hall shutter before going left into the West Office. Take the left path past a zombie, he reached a door that lead to the West Hall, where he spotted a Licker in the hallway on the left.

Gritting his teeth, HUNK narrowed his eyes.

For fuck's sakes! Really?!

Even better, he could hear the loud thumping of his pursuer somewhere close behind, drawing the attention of the Licker as it gave a shriek and charged in his direction.

Swapping his LE 5 for his Magnum, HUNK charged forward with the weapon raised, watching as the creature leapt toward him with an outstretched claw that was ready to slash him to ribbons.

Pulling the trigger, the operative felt a tinge of satisfaction as the fleshless monstrosity gave shrill cry as it was knocked out of the air.

Running past it, he darted up a long spiraling stairway, watching as various zombies and creatures of all shapes and sizes spilled over the railway, the entities falling to the main floor with a sickening thud.

Some died on impact, breaking their own necks in the process.

Others, however, proved surprisingly resilient, even with their necks completely lopsided and spinal columns completely shattered.

One zombie in particular, a brown-haired fellow wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, had its entire head completely caved in, only to rise up as if nothing had happened.

What the fuck...?

Shaking off his surprise, HUNK continued to climb the stairs all the way up to the second floor before taking a right through what appeared to be the showers.

Ducking through a large hole in the wall into an adjacent shower and changing room, HUNK pushed through a wooden door and stepped into a long hallway with several windows, only to be confronted with what could only be described as pure chaos.

Several Ivy zombies were fighting against a trio of axe-wielding ones, all of whom looked identical in their clothing and appearance.

'What the fuck is even happening?!' HUNK wondered as he watched the vicious onslaught, the two sides killing each other.

Stepping forward, the operative primed a flashbang and threw it at their feet.

As one zombie slammed its axe into the head of an Ivy creature, the flashbang went off, producing a bright flash of light, causing the operative's ears to ring slightly as he pushed past the creatures, allowing him to get away.

Moving past the S.T.A.R.S. office, HUNK took a sharp left at the far end of the hallway, ignoring a room labeled as the "Linen Room" in favor of another door straight ahead.

Entering the next room, he found himself in what seemed to be a Lounge area, where a large bronze unicorn statue stared from its perch, mounted on an elaborate stone pedestal.

Giving it an appreciative nod, HUNK turned to a door to his left and gave it a sharp kick, causing the swinging door to knock a stray zombie off its feet before stepping inside with his LE 5, where he found himself in a vast library.

Killing the downed zombie with a heavy stomp on its head, the operative felt its skull crunch beneath him, raising his LE 5 as several infected started to climb down the stairs.

Sprinting through the library, he pushed through a pair of double doors, where he found himself back in the Main Hall.

"Back here again," he muttered.

Taking the first step forward, a loud slap drew his attention to his right, where he spotted a zombie pushing itself up.

"Oh Jesus Christ," he growled, watching as more zombies started to fall down from the third floor.

Hurrying past them, he discharged his submachine gun into a Cerberus dog as it fed, killing it instantly before running all the way to the other end of the Main Hall.

Stepping into an area that he identified as the Waiting Room. HUNK kicked down the door to the Eat Hall, swapping his LE 5 for the shotgun as he killed three zombies as they approached, painting the walls the blood, bone and brains. Quickly inserting fresh shells into his weapon, he cocked it before pushing past into a hall as he headed toward the Chief's Office.

A Licker was waiting by the stairwell, causing the operative to silently fume at his predicament.

'Figures,' he thought.

As he took a cautious step forward, he suddenly stopped, looking over his shoulder.

That's odd.

He couldn't hear his pursuer anywhere.

Had it finally given up on its chase?

Part of him wanted to believe that it had, but all throughout this endeavor, the creature had been nothing but remorseless, refusing to back down.

So what had changed? Had it finally had enough? Had it found something more appetizing?

It was strange how it had been confronted with so many other creatures and zombies, all of whom could potentially satiate its hunger, and yet all throughout, it had been so focused on him.

A wry smile formed beneath his gasmask.

Perhaps the taste of the creatures themselves just wasn't appealing.

He resisted the urge to let out a derisive snort.

Figured that a Tyrant would have a preference in its choice of meals.

Still, at least it was gone, at least for now.

Swapping his shotgun for his Magnum, HUNK carefully aimed his weapon at the Licker as it sat perched like an ugly gargoyle on a banister, firing at its exposed brain.

Letting out a shriek, the creature jerked in surprise, falling to the floor.

Firing several more times, HUNK emptied his entire magazine into it before reloading, stepping over its bleeding carcass as he then climbed up the stairs, making his way for the roof.

* * * * *

Stepping through the door, HUNK quickly dashed left to avoid an on-coming G-Virus Adult, quickly sliding all the way down a long ladder before it can react. Switching to Mathilda, he took out a few crawling zombies that were in his way before sprinting to a door ahead.

Running through another hallway, the Umbrella soldier hurried down down a Fire Escape to reach the the east courtyard...only to find himself greeted by the biggest welcoming party ever.

"Great," HUNK cursed under his breath.

There were creatures all over the damned place, some of them rising from the ground, while others were eating whatever prey they caught.

Running forward, HUNK unloaded everything he had into the horde as he pushed his way past them all, hugging the right wall as he avoided yet another G-Virus Adult creature.

Blasting his shotgun into the crowd, HUNK slammed the butt of his weapon into the face of an approaching zombie, smashing its teeth before hurrying past, heading down a set of stairs.

Upon finding more at the bottom of the stairs, HUNK discharged every bullet that he had into a cluster of creatures, their heads, limbs and body parts being blown away.

Once the size had whittled down to something more manageable, the operative lobbed his last grenade to clear a path.

Flinching at the blast the followed, he ran past their remains and climbed up the opposite stairs leading to the west courtyard, then dashed left as he headed to the front gate of the Police Station.

Kicking open the gate, HUNK stepped out onto the streets, listening to the loud thumping of watching as the Bell UH-1 Iroquois as it approached, sending dust, debris and newspapers flying in all directions.

"Alpha Team, this is Nighthawk," the pilot spoke from HUNK's radio. "I have a visual on you and am coming in. Get ready to be picked up."

"Acknowledged." The operative watched as the helicopter lowered itself before landing directly on the ground.

Hurrying toward it, HUNK opened the cabin door and climbed onboard.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Death," Nighthawk called from the cockpit. "Take a seat and make yourself comfortable. We'll be leaving shortly- JESUS!"

A loud crash interrupted the pilot as something smashed out from the second story window above the RPD entrance.

Rising up to its full height, HUNK made out the form of the giant security guard as its beady eyes narrowed, its horrible skull-like countenance colored by the orange flames that lit the street, a growl building from the back of its throat.

"Who the hell is this?!" Nighthawk called. "Friend of yours?"

"Definitely not," HUNK replied as he buckled himself in. "Take us out of here."

Rearing itself up, the beast let out an enraged roar and charged toward the helicopter.

Feeling the vehicle jerk upward, the operative watched as it drew closer, only to notice something odd; the club that it typically wielded was no longer in its hands.

Instead, it was secured to its back through the use of its chain, which the creature seemed to use as a sort of makeshift quiver.

"What the hell is that?!" Nighthawk swore, pointing to the object in its hands.

Looking back to the creature, HUNK squinted at the object in its hands, trying to discern its form until he started to notice...movement.

As it drew closer, the operative's eyes widened in shock as he saw the item in full; it could only be described as a grotesque rope made from various arms, spinal columns, long cords of flesh, muscle, and - - even more disturbingly - - still-sentient partial torsos.

Sneering, the creature started to swing its "lasso" in a wild loop, and with each swing, he heard the torsos crying, their bones snapping.

"GET US OUT OF HERE, NOW!" HUNK warned.

With that utterance, the beast swung its disgusting makeshift "grappling hook" in the helicopter's direction.

The Iroquois buckled slightly as a loud and fleshly thud impacted its side.

Grabbing for the side door, HUNK struggled against the multitude of arms that tried to grab at him, the soldier grunting as he took out Mathilda and discharged into the various hands and heads that were clawing and biting at him.

HUNK kept firing into the creatures, feeling the vehicle sway slightly as both creature and machine dueled each other in a test of strength, a vigorous fight to the death.

Red lights filled the cabin as Nighthawk struggled to maintain control of his vehicle, doing everything he can to keep the chopper from falling out of the sky.

"GET THIS BASTARD OFF MY BIRD!" He shouted.

"On it!" HUNK nodded as he used up all of his ammunition, switching to his combat knife.

Grunting with exertion, he sliced, stabbed and struck at the various arms and heads that gripped at the helicopter, watching as some of their limbs give away.

"Come on! Come on!" HUNK said between grit teeth as he sliced at the wrists and fingers.

One by one, the grip loosened, but a slight jostle from the "grappling hook's" owner caused the helicopter to tilt and nearly slam into the side of a building.

Looking back to the creature, HUNK watched in awe as the creature strained itself, digging its exposed heels into the concrete, its biceps bulging as it tightly grasped onto its "rope", determined to not let go.

Turning back to the pilot, he called, "I need a weapon!"

"There's a weapons case beside you," Nighthawk replied. "Use it!"

Looking around, HUNK suddenly noticed a large crate by his seat. Grabbing it, he drew it open, revealing an M202 Rocket Launcher inside.

Taking it out from its casing, he loaded in the rockets, then propped it up onto his right shoulder.

Once he had the creature's sneering mug in his sights, HUNK held it securely, then carefully aimed.

"Smile, you son of a-"

With that declaration, he pulled the trigger, watching the rocket careen straight toward its target, exploding upon impact.

Letting out a grunt, the creature stumbled, its skin and clothing scorched.

Blinking in disbelief, HUNK then fired another rocket, then another.

Four rocket strikes, and the creature remained standing, its smoking form barely steady on its feet, possessing large, gaping holes.

Lifting up its bald head, the beast turned its ugly, ruined, skull-like face in HUNK's direction, their eyes meeting for the first time, causing the operative to give pause as the two silently regarded one another.

Pulling out its skull club, the titan raised its broken weapon to the sky in defiance, letting out a single loud roar. Taking a small step forward, the creature lifelessly fell forward to the ground, its collapse causing cars to tremble.

"Is it dead?" Nighthawk called.

"I think so," HUNK called back, cutting the last limbs that still grasped at the chopper off, slamming the cabin door shut. "Get us out of here."

The pilot snorted. "Thought you would never ask."

Settling back into his seat, HUNK heaved a sigh of relief as he felt the helicopter ascend upward, the creature's still form receding along with the police station, and soon, the rest of Raccoon City itself, vanishing like a memory.

* * * * *

"Once again, only you survived, Mr. Death," the chopper said with cold amusement. "Always, only you survive, Mr. Death."

HUNK said nothing as he stared out the window, not caring for his remarks as he focused on the mountainous landscape.

It was a close call; far too close than he would have liked to admit.

Many brave men and women died within his unit, and a great many more have suffered.

However, to HUNK, all of that was irrelevant; the mission objective took priority over everything else, and holding to that principal was why he had never failed a mission.

For that reason alone, Death could not die.

Turning his thoughts over to his pursuer, HUNK silently pondered about his adversary.

Whatever that creature was, he had to admit, it was the one being to have posed any form of challenge for him as a soldier; no other being had ever made him more alert and on edge than that security guard.

There have been many instances where HUNK had been certain that he would die, as much as he couldn't believe it; it had only been through pure luck and determination on his part that he was able to get away.

He didn't know who or what that being was, but regardless of its origins, a part of HUNK felt a surprising measure of respect for the creature; it was deadly, resourceful, cunning, and utterly relentless.

A wry smirk formed beneath his gasmask.

'Like myself,' he mused.

He gave a low chuckle, the sound droned out by the thumping of the Iroquois' propellors.

Who would have guessed that he would have found his match in a B.O.W. of all things?

Still, at least he was able to come out on top in the end.

Taking off his gasmask and helmet, the man known only as HUNK took in a deep breath as he relished the fresh air, inhaling deeply as he placed the items on the seat beside him.

Reaching into his pouch, he pulled out the vial containing the G-Virus sample, staring hard at it with scrutinizing eyes, his visage darkly reflecting off of it.

Turning his attention back to the window, the man known only as HUNK watched the sunrise with a warm smile, listening to the low thumping of the helicopter as it took him further and further away from the dying city that he had left behind.

* * * * *

Author's Note: And that concludes this story. Hope you all liked this little adventure - please feel free to let me know your thoughts. Constructive criticism is welcome, but please avoid flames.

Stay safe and healthy, everyone! :)