Resident Evil REwritten

Waking Up Dead

" " -Spoken

' ' -Thought

( ) -Commentary. The smartass remarks that could be heard from the back of my head. For comic relief, and personal opinions. They're usually too snarky to be said aloud.

Welcome to the world of Resident Evil. Good luck and godspeed, you stupid, suicidal motherfuckers.


#3 Party like the Dead


As the recording of James Marcus droned on, I walked up the first flight of stairs, stopping just a few feet from the massive portrait of him.

Thinking, 'Fuck this noise,' I glanced up high, looking left and right for those damnable speakers. Found 'em. Taking aim, I put a bullet in both of them, silence filling the room as the echo of gunfire faded.

"Much better. Now I can hear myself think." Okie-day, time to put that grey matter to use, ma boy.

'Now, just how in the sam hill are we going to get out of here?' I took a knee, stroking my chin in thought. 'We need three stone tablets to lower the observatory and access the lab.'

"Obedience...Discipline...Unity." I muttered, unconsciously drawing my knife, placing the point on the marble floor as I tried to recall the map of the Management Training Facility.

'Basement floor has the train wreck tunnel. First floor has the foyer, bridge, bathroom and kitchen. Second floor, has the crow room and the grenade launcher. Third floor has the centipede room and observatory access. Three stone tablets.'

Where were they, again? Ah, yes. In opposite parts of this hellhole.

'One on the bridge outside. One on the second floor, in a vise. And the last is in the basement, past the boiler room, next to the animal fountain. When we have those, we can move on to the next area. Now that we have a goal, what do I need to reach it?'

I glanced down, looking over my SE2. 'I need a weapon; this 9 mil won't cut it.'

Then I checked my lighter on reflex, finding it not wanting to light, the bastard.

'Aaaand I need fuel. Great. Least I can get those two within the next ten minutes.'

When I next looked to the floor, I saw my work; I'd carved a crude map of the place from what I remember when I played it last. Floor 0, the basement. Floor 1, where we currently were. Floor 2, where the most powerful weapon is. And Floor 3, where our exit is.

I'll need to find a real map of this place sometime soon, 'cuz my memory isn't for shit.

Standing, I said, "Alright. This place is a deathtrap, so keep your eyes and ears open. If either of you see or hear anything you cannot identify, or if it just plain creeps you out, say something. We'll work on covering the ground floor first, then check the second floor before making our way back down." With that, I turned, making my way down the stairs to the door leading into the dining room as I thought,

'Fuck you and everything you hold dear till it's bleeding from the ass and crying into a pillow, Wesker. I can't WAIT to blow your friggin' head off, ya jackass'



While Roy was up next to that large portrait, Billy quietly asked, "Is it just me, or did he not answer our question at all?"

I shrugged and answered honestly, "No, he didn't. I don't like it."

"That makes two of us."

Just then, the object of our conversation stood from where he'd been kneeling and sheathed his knife before jogging down the stairs. After, he moved over to the double-doors on the right side of the room, beckoning us.

Roy was just about to open the door with this disturbing smirk on his face when Billy called, "Hey, wait."

"Hm? What is it?" He replied, turning to look at us. The creepy smile was already long gone, but I had a sneaking suspicion it would be back sooner than I'd like.

"Just who are you, anyway?"

And as Roy smirked, turning back to the door, he responded, "The name's Roy Mustang; I'm just your average unlucky, overworked, underpaid government employee. Now let's go, we're burning the midnight oil here."

Then he beckoned us over, standing on the left side of the doors.

"He's very dramatic, isn't he?" I asked, looking over to Billy.


'Eeeveryone's a bloody comedian,' Roy thought with a shake of his head as we caught up to him. "Rebecca, stack up, right side." He indicated the wall on the far side of the doors. Or, as far as we could get to it, anyway.

I moved to that side of the doors, idly wondering what he meant by 'stack up.' Haven't heard that phrase before.

The younger man took Edward's gun in hand, pulling the slide back slightly before he looked at the ex-Marine, then to me. "Billy, you're kicker. Rebecca, I'll go first, then you. You two get the left side, clear?"

We both nodded, before he took a breath and pulled the hammer back. "Safeties off, check chamber." Glancing down, I found that mine was still on. Whoops. After I racked the bolt and flicked the lever down, he continued.

"Headshots only, and watch your fire. On my mark. Three. Two. One, mark!"

In that instant, Billy raised his boot and kicked the doors right on the lock, the sound of splintering wood and metal snapping accompanied by Roy's shout. "THREE TARGETS!"

*POWFUHL!* Quickly followed by a gunshot.

I moved around the doorjam, pulling the submachinegun to my shoulder as I took in the scene. It was a dining room, a fairly ritzy one, at that. Roy was moving to the right of the room, his sights set on-


On the second zombie on the far side of the table, which dropped as I took aim at the third, who was just shuffling to his feet on the far left side of the room. Exhaling, I squeezed the tri-


I pulled and held the trigger, not realizing it was on full-auto, the unexpected recoil pulling the muzzle high enough to pepper the ceiling.

But still, the zombie fell to the floor with three holes in his head. In the uncomfortable, embarrassing silence that followed, all I heard was footsteps.

"And that, is why I said to leave it on semi." Roy remarked as he reached over and flicked the fire-selector on my gun. I felt my face burning, just before Billy began chuckling.

"Heheh, I think she got him, though. And whoever was on the other side of that wall. Or on the second floor."

Damn you, Billy Coen. "Shut up..."

Now both men started snickering, the bastards, just before Roy said, "Y'know, you look even cuter when you blush."

. . .


Billy agreed. "Yeah, I think you're right."

I think I outta hit both of them.



After teasing Rebecca, I said, "Well, since you wasted that ammo, go grab that box on the table back there," Hooking a thumb in that direction, "And divvy it up while I raid the fridge."

I moved over to the serving window and hefted myself up, vaulting over it and the sink on the other side. Once on my feet, I nabbed the can of lighter fluid and the bottles on one of the shelves, before snagging the herb on the far counter from its pot.

All that in hand, I moved back to the service window, calling, "Order up! I've got a green herb and lighter fluid, get it while it's hot."

Those two had come over to said window, taking the respective items. After they moved out of the way, I hopped up onto the sink and swung myself back into the dining room, setting the glass bottles on the table.

The medic was busy with her chemical set, quickly crushing the herb into fine bits, ready to be chewed up and spat onto any light injury. Or to be stuffed into a blunt, one or the other. Anyway, Billy was busy refilling his lighter, before flicking it on to burn off the excess.

While he was doing that, I took the can and pulled my own Zippo, taking the chance to top it off.

"How'd you know my lighter was empty?" The Marine asked me, flicking said object shut and pocketing it.

I shrugged. "Lucky guess. Besides, we'll need to light a few candles for one of the more retarded locks in this place. That, and it's handy to have a lighter around for making molotovs, which we'll need if we come across any more of those leeches."

He practically shuddered at my mention of them. "There are more of those things?"

"A LOT more. We'll be lucky if we make it out without running into at least a dozen."

From across the room, Rebecca piped up with, "That many? And just how do you know?"

Deciding to ham it up a little, "Psychic powers..." I dramatically intoned, with a completely straight face. Heheh, their expressions were just priceless, from unsurprised disbelief to their shared sardonic irritation.

Heh, wonder if they'll ever get the reference?


Some five minutes later, we were down the connecting hallway and proceding into the shotgun-ladder room, and as we stepped inside, I caught sight of a magnificent godsend.

Another USS soldier in full kit, zombified and ready for looting!

Grinning as I moved closer, I brought my SE2 to bear and tugged the trigger, sending a hollowpoint slug right through the unlucky bastard's temple. After he hit the floor, I merrily walked over, toed him over onto his back, and began the process of taking anything and everything of value off his person.

"Hm, lessee what we got with our latest catch. Three Sig 9mil mags, holster is empty, unfortunately. Aha, something useful! Dead guy's shotgun bandolier(Loaded with 20-some-odd shells) is now MY shotgun bandolier(With 20-some-odd shells, bitch). OOh, an extra knife, if either of you are so inclined. That means you, Rebecca. Don't cut yourself," I finally remarked, as I passed those named items back to their respective recipients.

A moment later, something caught my eye. Several somethings.

Round, metal, each with a ring and a lever attached. Oh, could it be?!


"Oh, HELL yes!" Grenades galore! Four of the beauties! It's my lucky day!

Behind me, I heard the other two making snarky comments. "Does he seem to be just a little overexcited about finding another dead body?"

"Yep. At least he isn't humping it."

Ingrateful sarcastic bastards.

With a shake of my head I got to my feet,(After, collecting those lovely explosive wonders) rounding the bend of the room,(Casually smashing the other zombie's head against the shelf along the wall as I went. It' s neck snapped, by the way) and making my way to the familiar sight of an old friend of mine.

"Hel-lo, Dolly." Picking up the 12 gauge pump, I lovingly wiped off the dust and cobwebs before giving it a once over, as I found it to be an Ithaca 37 with rifle sights. 24-inch barrel, and a 6+1 tube. Not bad, not bad. I like it.

I like it a lot.

Once again, I could hear the other two making snide remarks. "Oh, dear lord. He's found another gun."

Billy deadpanned, "Another one? The next box he looks through, dibs on whatever's inside."

Alright, that's enough. I'm the smart-alec here, dammit. Sending a look back at them,(You know which one) I impersonated John Wayne's voice as best I could. "Listen here, tonto, one more wisecrack, and it's off to the reservation. I'm the one makin' the funny one-liners around here, Billy-bob, capisce?"

Wow. Just, wow. They were both gaping at me, blinking heavily in awestruck silence.

Good effect on target!


We returned to the foyer,(Gas tank and newly-made molotovs in hand. I left the tank next to the typewriter, for future homemade explosives) this time I lead my compatriots to the portrait of James Marcus and I cracked my knuckles, thinking,

'Fuel, check. Weapon, check.'

"Who wants to bet that there's a secret passage hidden behind the good doctor?"

They both shrugged. "What makes you think there's something behind it?"

Hm, lemme see. "The layout of these stairs, the slight draft and unpleasant odor coming from said portrait, and of course, the fact that this place was designed by a certain architect named George Trevor. A man I hope will forever burn in hell, that sadistic prick. I'm just sorry I don't get to kill his ass myself." Bloody jaggoff. Worst-designed mansions, ever.

Of all time.

"Uh, who's George Trevor? I've never heard of him," Rebecca asked/stated, curiosity burning in her shining emerald eyes.

I couldn't suppress the groan that came up. "Georgie-boy is an asshole, plain and simple. But he's before your time, he died some twenty years ago. Both this place and the Spencer estate were designed by him. That includes all the retarded traps and puzzles inside, which we will have to navigate to get out."

Billy-Bob-Jones pointed out the glaring flaw in the plan. "Uh, why can't we just walk out the front door?" That idiot, walking out would be too EASY!

. . .

As to WHY can't we? Alright, time to show 'em.

I turned, and pointed at the front door, which was barred by the knights. Kinda. I could get past, but it would be a pain in the neck. "The doors are barred, for one. I don't feel like prying their arms off right this moment, so give me a few minutes and I'll show you why we can't walk out."

Turning, I beckoned them to follow me as I lead us into the lecture hall. When we saw it was clear, Rebecca immediately set her eyes on a file left lying in the open, which she skimmed over, shuddering as she did so. Billy was glancing at it over her shoulder, also slightly disturbed. "My god, this looks less like a company mission statement, and more like-"

"Like a cult indoctrination?" I finished for her, as I moved to the front of the room.

She sounded startled. "Uh, yeah. What are you-?"

Once up on the mini stage, I got behind the podium, and set about hacking it into opening those door. Raising a fist, I smashed through computer console, grabbing a fistfull of wires and twisting sharply.


. . .

Moments later, we could hear a grinding noise as the arms of the two nearby knights lifted themselves up, unbarring the doors and allowing passage.

'Alright, now if only it was this easy in the game,' I thought with a shake of my head, as I shook out my hand and dropped back down, starting back for the foyer.


Once down at the front doors, I said, "Take heart, my friends, this is not an easy scene to witness," Just before I shoved them open. Both of my companions ran up ahead, onto the broken bridge, before they both began whining when they saw the gap.

And the fall.

"Damnit! Why the hell is there a cliff here?!" -Billy

"Oh, come on! This doesn't even make sense! The ladder wasn't THAT high!" -Rebecca

Heh, don't they know? This is Nintendo-hard. Hell, this is a Capcom game. NOTHING makes sense! I made my way over to them, saying, "So, now do you see why I didn't mention it?"

Somber nods from both of them. "Well, while we're here, I might as well show you our ticket out." Pointing to the top of a nearby column, I then said, "Bill, A-frame."

After a moment, he got what I meant. We stood on either side of it, Rebecca between us. "Uh, are you sure this is a good idea?" She asked, stepping on our hands.

"Nope." And we lifted her up a good four feet, letting her nab the stone tablet up topside.

"Got it! W-WHOA!" Of course, being Rebecca, she lost her balance, toppling backwards.

With the tablet!

'Fuck me running,' I thought, pulling her towards me as I shifted my weight to-

"OOMPH!" Ow. To get her to land on me, so as to not crack her head, or the tablet, on the ground.

Double, ow. She was pressed up against me, the stone between her stomache and mine, those magnificent breasts of hers still smooshed against me. But, of course, this wasn't the awkward bit.

Since my luck is just like that, her lips got smashed against mine and we were stuck like that for a moment, as both our thought processes got short-circuited. Not to mention, our limbs were kinda tangled up.

"Well, aren't you two getting frisky? And on your first date, too." Billy was the first one to react, the smartass. I wanted to smack him. Right after wanting to slap Rebecca's fine rump, that is. Whoops, hey! Down, boner!

After Rebecca sheepishly pulled back from me with her face bright red, I figured I had but a moment to react. Thinking quickly, I purposely stuttered, "You- You stole my first kiss!" With a completely straight face, mind you. Though it was difficult to maintain.

. . .

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!" Billy just busted out laughing, as the medic in question was slack-jawed and embarassed beyond belief. At least, until I couldn't hold back any longer and started snickering, too, upon which, she just looked mortified.

And pissed the hell off, though she just looked even cuter when she was angry.

She extricated herself from me, stomping off towards the front door in silent angrish.

"That, was classic." Billy remarked as he pulled me to my feet, just before we started off to make sure the doe-eyed girl didn't get herself into trouble.

"I wanted to be a comedian, but no, they said I was too politically incorrect. So the government hired me instead. At least the pension's better."

We both shared another chuckle at that.

Inside, Rebecca was no longer scowling or muttering, but I didn't exactly trust the look in her eyes, either. "So what's this stone for?"

"Yeah, what gives?" Billy echoed, the edges of his mouth still twitching with mirth.

"We need three stone tablets to access the nearby laboratory, where we'll find our way out of this hellhole. Obedience, Discipline, Unity. Don't ask why, I don't know who came up with it. There are two more; one in the basement, and another on the second floor. When we have them, we'll head to the third floor observatory and move on. For now, just set that one in one of the chairs, they're a bit bulky to be carrying around."

Once she laid it on the chair, I called them to my side and began the trek up the stairs to the water door. Might as well pick up that weapon while we're here, eh?


One swift kick to the one-sided lock brought the door wide open, allowing us passage into the hallway that lead into the observatory access. Once on the next door in this little mini-hall, I checked the chamber on my new Ithaca, and flicked off the safety before looking back to Billy who was holding the door handle.

He nodded once and threw the door open, as I stepped through.

BUGS! "We got bugs!" I shouted, getting a bead on the first one's head as I tugged the trigger.

*Ba-BOW!* Ha ha, yes! I just love the sweet kick of a 12 gauge. The first plague crawler's entire head exploded, sending off-green gore all over the floor as the second one turned and lunged at me while I was racking my gun, readjusting my aim.

*Pow! Blam-Bang!* Three rounds slapped it in the face, as I heard someone's MP5 going off just behind me. The bug dropped back to the floor, unmoving. Of course, being paranoid, I drew my sidearm and put two more rounds in that particular one, just to be sure. A little overkill never hurt anyone, after all.

Admit it, that was funny.

"Shit, some bugs these are. Where's the Raid?" Billy sniped, gently stepping over their carcasses.

Chuckling darkly, I hefted my new shotgun, boasting, "Heh, fuck the raid, I got me the world's most bad-ass flyswatter, right here."

Rebecca had got no further than two steps into the room, shuddering disgustedly when she saw the dead bugs. Then we both heard Billy exclaim, "Sweet baby Jesus, thank you! It's my lucky day!" He rushed over to where the grenade launcher was dropped, snatching it and the ammo up in the same instant, practically giggling like a schoolgirl all the while.

I rolled my eyes and turned to Rebecca, snidely remarking, "And you all had smart-mouthed remarks about me, huh?"

She merely shook her head with that knowing little smile of hers, the tease. Anyway, I walked over to the water door, giving the handle a tug to test it. Then I gave the thick steel an almighty kick right on the lock.

That steel then said fuck you and didn't budge.

With a resigned, irritated sigh, I got down on my knee and had a look at the-

"Son of a cockgargling whore!" I cursed, having taken out my flashlight and looked inside the keyhole; serrated pins, the motherfucker. With eight tumblers, no less! What the dick? Who has this much security on a door inside the place? Did Marcus store his bloody leech-tentacle porn in here or something?

"What's wrong?" Rebecca asked, as Billy was too busy coddling the launcher to be paying much attention.

I shook my head, aggravated by the change in developments. "This door is at least two inch thick steel, with no screws I can see, and the lock's got serrated pins, the bitch."

Her head tilted. "And that means...?"

Groaning, "It means I can't pick the damn thing. Serrated pins are a cast-iron bitch to work with, and I don't wanna break any of my picks. Ain't got a spare set of 'em. You know what, fuck Umbrella, fuck George, and fuck everything they hold dear till it's bleeding from the ass and crying into a pillow. I'm gonna start bringing the Gordon Freeman special, pry these goddamn things right open." That'd learn 'em.

"Why can't we just shoot the lock off?" Billy suggested, having finally finished jizzing his pants.

He even left some greenish-white stains on the floor!(Oh c'mon, that was hilarious)

Shaking my head, I said, "Well, 'cuz it would take half a dozen shells at least, and I don't feel like wasting those or the grenades. We might need 'em later, so fuck this for now." I stood up, starting for the foyer again. "Hokay, new plan. We'll instead make our way down, and hopefully find a key while we grab that other tablet. If not, then we'll come back up here and just blast the damn thing till it gives."


Back in the foyer, I gave Marcus' painting another look. This thing slides down, if I recall, based on having equal weights on the-

Wait. Dammit, Jim, I am NOT getting those friggin' statues, screw that. So how do I-

. . .

"Oy, both of you, take those Sig handguns out and unload 'em." They both gave me puzzled looks, before I gave them a hard stare. Then they complied, handing me two empty pistols, which I then hop-skip-jumped to the top of the stairs with.

Carefully laying each on one of the scales, I waited for a brief moment.

Nothing. Well, it was worth a-

*Rumble, rumble!* There was a grinding noise, the sound of stone-on-stone, as I heard the portrait lowering itself. Heheh, sweet.


"Damn, you were right. Who the hell is narcissistic enough to build a secret passage behind their own picture?"

I shrugged, joining them. "Someone narcissistic enough to have their own ugly mugg displayed as the central piece of a grand room like this."

"Point taken," Billy said, shaking his head as all three of us peered down the dark stairway.

There was a scuttling noise heard deep down inside, which I was not looking forward to. Turning to my new friends, I said, "Well, guys, let's go looting!"

And down we went, into the abyss.

Or, well, how about Into The Nothing? That works, doesn't it?

[Cue Music; Into The Nothing, by Breaking Benjamin; Album, Dear Agony. Y'know, just because it's an awesome song, and we need some background music]

We descended, deeper and deeper into the darkness, the beam of my flashlight cutting through the murk ahead of us. "Into the nothing, we go."

Not that either of them got the reference. Shame, it's a good song. "What's that from?" Rebecca asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Probably becuase she was scared shitless.

"It's a song, about making the choice to go where you are certain you will never return from. You could say it's based on a soldier's willingness to undertake a suicide mission, not for glory or fame, but because it needs to be done for the sake of the people he is fighting to protect."

She chuckled nervously. "Is that the best thing to be said when we're walking into the unknown?"

Heheh, she IS cute as all hell. "Probably not, but there's only one way to find out. Roll the dice."

We finally bottomed out(Unfortunately, I wasn't bottoming out inside the pretty girl next to me. My inner-pervert is starting to irritate me) at the end of the staircase, where a dim light on the ceiling ahead of us showed a hallway that lead to the left. "Alright, here we are. Both of you be careful and watch your surroundings. Rebecca, glue yourself to my ass and Billy, you're on rear security. Try not to stare at Rebecca's rear too much. Let's go."

Ignoring the way Becky glared at Billy for a moment, I took point, taking my handgun and flashlight in hand, more worried about seeing my enemy rather than hitting it with the shotgun. Ten feet further, We went around the corner and found-




There is a reference to Red Vs Blue in here. My fellow Halo fans, rejoice!

Also, there's a Battlefield 3 reference in there somewhere, as well as an obvious shout-out to RE4. AND, of course, the obligatory Edsworld gag. Great little cartoon. There's even one for Bulletstorm! There is another obvious one, a reference to my fellow author on the LPA, The Dark Id.

Now, to everyone, there is a wonderful little series of "Let's Play" Stories for the Resident Evil series on the Let's Play Archives, all written by The Dark Id.(who, of course, is going to murder the crap out of me for stealing his puns. Really, he's on my doorstep with a shotgun, shouting something about having finally found all 37 pieces of it that had been scattered around the neighborhood. He's rather irate about that)

They are fucking hilarious. This dude, is a genius of comedy.

Seriously. Go read 'em. Especially the ones for Resident Evil 0, 1, and 4. Those are the best ones, in my *humble* opinion. Of course, number 4 is the best, but still; the ghost of a homicidal, foul-mouthed, jerkass jew haunting the girl who killed him was the single funniest bit I've seen in a loooong time.

Oh yeah, just to make you laugh, "BY THE EYEBROWS OF EUGENE LEVY!"(The fuddy-duddy father from American Pie. You all know who he is, don't lie)

...Best line ever. Period, end of report. I have already begun using that on sheer reflex, it's so funny. Thanks again, Dark Id. You're awesome.

I OFFICIALLY stamp him with the Blade8821-APPROVED seal of great authors, and reccommend any and all fans of Resident Evil to go read his stuff. Not many can claim to be approved by someone as finnicky as moi.

It's the least I can do for hijacking his punch lines. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go and hide the different components of the shotgun shells in my garden, refridgerator, and the attic. That, and I'll remove the handle from the ammo-making tool in the basement, then toss it in the fishtank. Maybe hide the gunpowder in the doghouse, behind Fluffy.(My English Bullmastiff)

And of course, place the front door key on the roof after fully disassembling the ladder, hiding the screws in a wrapped sandwich in a locked lunchbox.

I will, of course, hide the key to it in Fluffy's collar. I should also note, there are no crowbars OR screwdrivers in my house.

THAT should take the wind out of his sails!