Chapter Text
Umbrella employed certain types of... individuals for their Security Service team. Low morals, violent backgrounds, weapons experience, and, odd as it is, a healthy mental state. After a severe background check, usually taking up to a few months followed by a week of drugged interrogation of the prospective hire, they were taken to a training site that does not exist in any official record.
For the next three months, they were put through intensive training that was the cause of more than one candidate mentally breaking down from stress, or physically breaking down from the rigorous exercise and medicinal supplements they were made to endure. Failure of the program was not an option, as anyone who flunked out or showed signs of resistance to Umbrella's commands got volunteered for other services. But considering the life expectancy, which was never told to potential members, of their job, the volunteers are considered lucky by some staff. It was even practice for people who worked comms during their jobs to make bets on who would live and die.
But there was one person who never came close to breaking. Some doubted he was a human, with the way he walked out of hell holes and death traps that killed his entire team. The way he could almost robotically carry out the will of Umbrella Executives. Among the Security Team, he was their most remarkable and dangerous operative. His name, whether real or not one could not say, was Hunk, but his other moniker was spoken only in hushed whispers far away from those cold, piercing eyes.
He was called Death and for a good reason.
…
Another gust of wind assaulted Annette as Hunk fired another round that nearly grazed her head. The undead, headshot for a second time, stumbled a minute before lurching back to its feet. Two bullets smashed against its forehead, and the bone blackened and cracked from the impact. She felt a small surge of fear at the mutation while Hunk only grunted in annoyance before firing off a round at its knees, sending it sprawling back to the ground.
"Move," he told Annette, pushing her forward down a service tunnel, stomping down hard on the zombie's neck as he did. Its spine, not yet reinforced, shattered under his heavy boot, and the undead was left snarling impotently on the ground behind them.
"Did you have a plan to kill your husband?" Hunk asked, glancing behind them as something made a scraping sound.
"...Yes," she replied, too scared to lie as they moved forward, pipes shaking overhead as water along with other liquid leaked from them.
"Explain," Hunk said, making sure to keep an eye on the doors as they moved down the maintenance tunnels. He needed a way into the lab and a plan to kill Annette's husband, and she would be able to provide both.
"...a liquid-based destabilizer for the G-Virus. Would have forcefully undone the bond between the Virus and cells, thereby undoing his cohesion,” she said, moving along slowly, a rough bandage made from her coat on her burn wound. “But it wasn't finished, so I needed to lure him into a room I was sure would hold him until it was ready."
"So melt him with science, and your daughter would have been the ideal bait," he summarized, instincts telling him to hurry up as those noises got closer. While fear might have been something Hunk could ignore, the warnings of danger were something he always listened to.
"She wasn't the bait! She was just…" she shouted, rage making her forget the gun pointed at her head as she whirled around. Hunk quickly reminded her by firing a round that just grazed her neck.
"Fun fact, you can disable someone's vocal cords with a bullet, and they won't bleed out. Remember that when you shout,” Hunk warned, voice hard as a knife. “Now, you planned to use your daughter as bait so that you could trap him. Your daughter would not have survived, and you would have joined her."
Annette bit back the words in her mouth, neck still burning as she looked up at her daughter on Hunk's shoulder.
"When we get to the lab, lead me to that chemical. Then…." Hunk suddenly became quiet, turning around, aiming his machine pistol down the dark tunnel. Annette quickly bent over and grabbed a broken bottle for a weapon, whether to attack Hunk or for comfort she didn't know but her thought process stopped when the nose came.
Thump, thump,
"Itttt urrrrrttttsss….urrrrrrrtsss." The voices echoing from the tunnel were shattered and garbled like the owner was speaking through numerous broken mouths. Lights flickered down the dark tunnel, a mass of flailing...something was making its way forwards, barely visible in the light but Hunk had seen enough.
"Carry this," he said, moving towards Annette, almost tossing her unconscious daughter at her. Dropping the bottle as Sherry fell into her arms, she grimaced in pain as the weight aggravated her injuries. "Don't bitch, you carried her for 9 months."
Grabbing a grenade from his vest and cooking it, he tossed it at the monster. All the while he was moving towards a nearby door, all but dragging Annette with him, as the explosive sent the thing reeling back in pain.
Opening the door, he took a quick look inside. A desk, some lockers, and a toolbox were all that was inside.
No exits, perfect.
"Stay,” he said, shoving her into the room and slamming it shut behind them, not even bothering to see them land. Grabbing his shotgun, Hunk turned on the flashlight attachment, immediately wishing Umbrella offered amnesia in a jar.
The long-clawed paws slammed against the ground as it dragged its slug-like body across the ground. A maw filled with teeth, broken and yellow was scrawled across between its fore-limbs and…what was left of Irons. Like a cloak of disgust, he was draped, the thing growing from his jaw and chest. Black blood flows down the entire length of the beast.
Irons, or at least, what was left of him was broken. His body was twisted, broken, with small chunks gnawed out of his body. The wounds were oozing with…stuff Hunk would rather not think about.
Or even look at.
Round after round was fired into the former police chief, the slugs tearing into the monster's skin with ease.
"URRRRRTTTTTTT!!!! T URRRRRRTS!!!!" Twisted Irons shouted from both mouths, massive limbs covering its human part from the shotgun fire. The slugs barely penetrated the limbs before falling to the ground.
Hunk quickly processed this when Twisted Iron slammed its arms to the ground, cracking the ground for the force. Its lower jaw opened as a long appendage flew from its mouth.
Moving on instinct, Hunk rolled forward, the appendage missing his head by inches. Holding his shotgun with one hand, Hunk grabbed a grenade with the other. Throwing the grenade, he performed a quick draw that would put an outlaw to shame.
"No tongue, creep." Hunk fired at the grenade, the slug hitting the grenade just as it entered the creature's mouth. The sharpened, fire, and shockwaves that ripped through the former Chief of Police almost made one of Umbrella's Top Agents smile. Almost.
"Hyyyy!!!!! Aaaaaat iiiiiidddde onnnnnnng?!?" Twisted Irons shouted as the human part, somehow half of it was almost in one piece crawled forward. A trail of blood and guts lay on the ground as it slammed broken human hands on the ground to move.
Hunk watched for a moment before holstering his pistol and reloading his shotgun. He took a moment to check all his weapons and gear was good, uncaring for the dying gurgles in front of him.
Moving forward, and stepping over the dying thing, Hunk stepped in from the door but on the verge of opening it, stopped. Drawing his sidearm, the Agent leveled it in front of him as he opened the door.
"Aaahhh!" Annette shouted rage as she swung the crowbar at Hunk. His pistol barked in response and cut off Annette's left ear near the top. The pain caused her to drop the crowbar midswing, Hunk catching it.
"Next time don't stand in front of the door.” Moving past Annette with that lesson echoing in her good ear, he moved to Sherry laying in the corner breathing heavily.
After a bit of finagling with some tubing from the toolbox, Hunk secured the valuable hostage on his back. Moving back to Annette, carrying a pistol and crowbar in either hand, he stared down at her.
"Get up, and move. Or I should give you an excuse for not hearing me?"
All the while Twisted Iron lay dying down the hall, moans, and tears echoing into the darkness.
…
"We have to do what?" Claire asked the FBI agent, not believing her ears.
"We have to find chess pieces and place them in the right order," Ada repeated, not believing it either if it wasn't in front of her.
"I paid taxes for this crap!?" Kendo nearly shouted, staring at the massive vault door as though his rage would make it explode.
Whoever designed this city's security sure hated people. I thought, as whatever kept my emotions muted finally pushed down the feelings left over from the nightmare. That cathedral scene still haunts me every time I close my eyes. Moving away from the group, I studied the wall just around the corner of the vault door.
"Probably a dumb question, did anyone pick up any chess pieces?" Leon asked, wondering if they had enough explosives to blow up the door.
"Oh yes, I have the whole set. Because it is natural for a person to pick up random chess pieces they find in a zombie-filled sewer," Kendo replied, getting out some C4 and wire. "Best option because going back wastes too much time."
"Maybe if we.." Conversation stopped as the dust started falling from the ceiling while the room shook. The group turned as one to see me slamming fist after fist into the wall, craters forming under each blow.
"I think that's a reinforced wall, bud," Leon said, moving over to watch me work from a safe distance. Reaching down, making sure to lift with my legs, I yanked the control panel out of the wall. Tossing it behind me to block the door, I stepped in and started slamming my entire body against it.
"Softer than steel." Taking some long strides I made it to the other side of the room and crouched down. Feeling my legs change, kneecaps popping backward for greater speed, I took a sprinter's stance. Fingers tore into the ground like it was clay.
"Oh shit. Back up, back up," the Rookie cop quickly moved the group back as I launched myself forward. Charging through the reinforced wall, my body was airborne for a few moments as I left a hole behind me. The only thing that stopped me was the metal staircase behind, it crumpled indeed the impact slightly.
Moving through the large hole in the wall I dusted myself off as the group studied me.
"Ready?"
…
Hungry. Angry. WHERE IS HE? Mr. H thought to himself listening to Jill Valentine from behind the walls of the lab under the hospital. Her heartbeat was a symphony that brought hunger to its black heart as it followed. It has taken every fiber of restraint it had not to eat her, break her, or play with her during the elevator ride down.
But its fury gave it patience, so it moved ahead, finding other food to satisfy its growing body. It would leave Jill for a bit to hunt, using the large vents and gaps to travel, grabbing a wayward zombie or mutant. More often than not it unhinged its jaw, swallowing its prey whole.
It enjoyed the kicking in its stomach.
Then as it moved back to Jill it heard a voice.
"Stupid one-eyed bastard," Nikolai muttered to himself as he sent every piece of data available to a secure dark website. Just in case Umbrella tried anything to betray him, this would give him an ace in the hole.
Information on the Nemesis was currently on the screen. Of course, a lot of it was black-marked but enough was shown to cause a lot of trouble.
The damned thing is easily one of Umbrella's top mad science projects. And yet it is a bleeding heart with an outdated sense of morality. What a dreadful waste.
For a moment Nikolai wondered what could be done with a Tyrant's body and his brain. The thought made him smile a dark smile as a nearby computer flashed in alarm. Rolling the chair over he typed a few commands into the consoles watching Jill Valentine appear on the monitor. Slowly moving her way towards the room just outside the computer room glass.
Why not have a little fun?
Dimming the lights slightly behind him, Nikolai moved to stand in front of the glass. A smirk appeared easily on his lip as he watched the S.T.A.R.S officer step into the room. It wasn't long before she saw him, and fired a round at his head.
"Hi, bitch," he said while lifting a hand to wave through the cracks of the bulletproof glass. Of course, Jill couldn't hear him, but hopefully, she could read his lips.
She could, judging by all the angry shouting. The sight made him smirk even more as for the first time in a while he felt happy. Then Nikolai felt something dripping on his shirt, as Jill looked at him with pure fear.
Well, not at him.
"Oh fuck," was his only whisper as he turned to stare at the monstrosity that was Mr. H.
It was an abomination and nothing less. Long serpentine body covered in an insect like-exoskeleton, with horribly malformed clawed hands running down the sides of its body. All across its emerald skin were…faces. Humans, mutants, and whatever else it had eaten were etched into its skin. Then it lowered its head to Nikolai's and he wanted to scream.
It was triangular like a snake, with a long split running down the underside of its jaw nearly a foot down its neck. Three different color eyes on each side of the face, locked on Nikolai's reflection on his face. Quills, mimicking hair, ran down the back of its head nearly halfway down its body.
The Umbrella Special ops soldier glanced behind him, thinking maybe Jill would save him.
She was long gone, and he was alone with Mr. H. For the first time in his life, Nikolai prayed.
….
"What is with the eyes?!" Ben asked, staring at the remains of the mutant zombie cyclops things Nem left in his wake. "All of them have this giant bloodshot eye and it’s very unsettling."
"And the weird tumors of 'oh my god' stuck to the walls aren't?" Leon asked, sweeping the sides and waist-high water with his rifle.
"It doesn't help the ambiance much…" the reporter muttered, holding his small revolver tight in front of him. He was very careful to keep the barrel pointed down.
"How…far?" Nem asked, leading the way, having no problem navigating the dim lighting of the tunnel. Every so often a mutant would charge, bulbous, misshapen, and brimming with hunger.
They made good outlets for the growing anger inside me.
"Hard to tell. Whatever this stuff is," Ada waved at some of the growths on the wall with her gun, "is giving me interference."
It was at that moment a Cyclops came roaring out of the water.
"Shut up!" Nem shouted, his voice shaking the air as a vicious uppercut pinned it to the ceiling. Blow after blow rained on the trapped Cyclops skin, bone, and organ shattered under his knuckles. Until finally a clawed spearhead was rammed through the middle of its chest.
"Feel better?" Nem heard Ada ask him. Deep breathing made his shoulders slowly stop shaking and trembling in rage.
"No."
"Hey, FBI Agent, do you know where that mad doctor is heading with the girl?" Kendo asked his head on a swivel, shotgun at the ready.
"Yeah, wh…we need to get there first. Be there waiting with a trap and a cure," Ada responded, mind working fast as she planned. "We need to move straight.”
"Work smarter not harder, my daddy always said. When he wasn't taking naps of course," Kendo said with a small grin.
Any other conversation stopped when the group found themselves in a large chamber. Lights on the wall illuminated piles of those weird growths all around them, the stench of decaying flesh mixed with the smell of the sewer and long decades of bile and grime.
"Are you sure it’s straight ahead?" Leon asked, covering his nose at the smell. "Because I would honestly prefer any other direction."
"Yeah, this was the way I traveled, though it was less…" Ben trailed off, trying to find the appropriate phrase as they stepped into the chamber.
"Lovecraftian hell of ugh?" Claire suggested, keeping her weapon at the ready as something bubbled in the corner.
"That's perfect for my book." Turning around suddenly Ben raised his pistol, trembling in fear, at the dark tunnel behind them. "Did you hear that?"
"Man please why? The worst thing you could have said in this situation," Leon said, moving to the back, assault rifle at the ready. A high-powered flashlight cut through the darkness, as ripples spread toward them.
Large ripples.
"People, we need to move, now," Leon nearly shouted, pushing Ben forward, never taking his rifle off the tunnel. Slowly backing up, Nem came to stand beside the rookie with his Mare Leg at the ready while Ada made it to the platform at the other end of the room.
"What the hell is that?" Leon asked as something shambled into view.
"Find…the…girl…."
The GX Tyrant was here.