Chapter 6 - Subhuman

Leon - She needed to find Leon.

Claire had a pretty strong feeling how the area was laid out, on a subtle level. She could walk around here and reach the area she wanted to if she accounted for the rules as they were so far.
That little girl, whether she was crazy or not, it's no great loss that she doesn't stick around that little witch further. That girl was a total creep.
But if there were other's trapped in this nightmare, people that she and Leon could help, then things may not be so bad. Perhaps, if they were lucky, the others might be able to help them. . .

It would only take a moment to check.

With a last glance at the room, walls sagging or melting, Claire walked to the second door, hoping she wasn't making a huge mistake.

It was a weird effect, as if the room was bizarrely running like ice-cream in the heat. Drops of paint and wall-matter rolled all over the edge of the floors.

With a flick of the wrist, she opened the door to the next hell.

She found herself in a faded room. There was a tiny elevator platform in one corner of the empty conference room, a square of metal that apparently was marked to travel down.
Claire hurried toward it, feeling horribly lost and anxious. She had to keep moving, she had to find the real Leon. There didn't seem anything too wrong with this room, it was actually a nice respite.
This despite the fact that it was devoid of life and it had that strange feeling in the air.

She can do this. . . It's alright. She kept assuring herself. Please be alive, man, please. . .
She'd found a large hole in the ceiling, it hadn't been there when she'd entered on the other side.

Above, she could see bits of the room upstairs. It looked like storage of some kind or a really messy place.

Abruptly, a pale face emerge from the edge, a wide-eyed woman peaked at her from the room. Her long raven hair fell down, drooping.

Her face was. . . Wrong. Just wrong. It looked human, but at the same time. . . There was something off about it.

"Gah!" She yelled, shocked as she grabbed at her chest, "Who are you!?"

But the woman was silent and kept watching her, like she was trying to read her soul. Her face was plastic, having this quality of unreality to the texture of the skin that just wasn't human.
It was like she were a doll. The eyes themselves were increasingly unnerving her, peering at her through the darkness like a twisted owl's.
After an agonizingly long moment of staring at her, into the rushing hair and that soulless face. She forced herself to walk away, with every uncomfortable inch.

It wouldn't be smart to take your eyes off something like that but she had to get out of there.

That woman, whoever, whatever she was, wasn't moving. That, at least, would assure her some safety from another attack. . . Or maybe not.

Claire quickly found the controls for the one-man lift and punched a button.
A hidden motor whirred and the lift descended, inching down through the floor as she closed the gate.
It was probably taking her to some other empty place, some other blank, unknown room.

Potentially, it might be worse, taking her directly into the path of yet another unnatural creature.

She clenched her damp hands in frustration as the lift slid slowly down, wishing that it was faster, that there were some way to speed up her search.
She felt like she was running blind, taking whatever path lay in front of her; from the front hall of the station where she thought she found that. . . thing, she'd found a dimly lit corridor.
And then, the unadorned and somehow sterile conference room. It was like an endless funhouse. It made her feel poorly, afraid.

If Kennedy were dead, then it's. . . She shut down this futile train of thought before it got any farther, forcing herself to focus.

Negative thinking was a killer, and she couldn't afford it. If this is an actual curse going on here then she should try to stay positive and shrug it off, so that this place wouldn't eat her alive.

Such a weird-ass idea, something so peculiar it logically couldn't be real.

The elevator was lowering into a hall, and she crouched down into a running start, trying her best to be brave and prepare to run.

This place felt like an asylum, it was so different then what was above. She had to defend herself somehow as her new surroundings rose into view.

The concrete corridor had another lift at the other end, and was intersected by a second hall, maybe forty feet away.
Next to that junction there was a body propped against one cement wall. It looked like. . .
She felt a mix of shock and distress, her eyes widening as she took in the man's slack features, the hair color, the build. . .

Deja vu.

Still she wasn't sure if it was really him, or another trick by a creature hunting her.

"L-Leon!?" She called, slowly Claire made her way toward him. There is no sign of him moving, or even breathing.

She felt her heart slam her rib cage painfully as she knelt down and touched his shoulder. Slowly shaking him.

"Leon!?"

The man slightly opened his eyes and looked at her, his lips moved into barely visible smile. Claire felt her nervousness fade a little bit, but still. . . Trust was hard here.

The next thing she knew, he'd slammed his lips to hers and nearly knocked all wind from her lungs.
She hardly had a moment to react before he forced his tongue past her lips and down her throat. Claire fought back, alarmed at his aggression at a time like this.

She pushed him off, getting free somehow as he gave her a strange smile.

"What the hell are you doing!?" She yelled.

Leon spoke again, his voice lower, like he'd huffed a small bit of sulfur hexafluoride, "Isn't this what you've wanted, for a long time?"

"What!?"

Right before her eyes, she saw him unbuckle his belt.

"I know you desire me, you yearn for my flesh," He spoke seductive, but at the same time, he was forceful, "Come here, I'll give you what you want!"

Claire, without a doubt, felt somewhat aroused after hearing those words, but she knew this wasn't right.

He was wrong, he was twisted, she knew it had to be another of those vile creatures. She took a step toward him, as if she were agreeing to this. . .

But she pushed against his chest, forcing him back into the wall, away from her.

"You are not Leon! He'd have enough respect to ask me for consent." As she said this, the imposter's eyes went dead, becoming glassy eyed as he smiled deranged.

Her breath started to quicken.

"W-Who are you!? What is this place?"

Veins started to appear in his face, turning the color of his skin to ashen.

"I'm your fear, I'm your keeper. My very existence terrifies you because you've forgotten about me." The creature laughed, it's voice raspy and deep.

"Should I be afraid of you!?" She remained tough, and raised her arms to prepare for defense.

The creature stood and dusted itself off, chuckling.

"Hmhmhm, Oh yes. Yes you should. You're a tortured one, you are. Your lust, the object of that insipid crush you have, is trapped within the seventh layer now. You can't reach him."

Claire took a step back once more, "I don't understand!?"

The creature grinned wildly, it's teeth sharpening slowly to razors as flecks of calcium fell away. 'Leon' began strolling toward her.

"I'm not a guide, you know. I just do what I'm made to do." It sneered in her face, it's fingernails so long now.

Claire felt her back hit a wall, this isn't good.

"So you want to fuck, huh?" She felt his crooked hand slide to her shorts.

Claire gritted her teeth. Her fingers tightened and her rage surfaced. Flexing her toes inside her boot, then releasing them again, she hauled off and kicked him in the abdomen as hard as she could.

Unexpectedly, the creature reeled back, writhing in pain. She thought it wouldn't have any affect at all.
Taking the chance, she took off, bolting for the door closest to her. She had to reach it before 'it' started after her again.

...

She found herself in a hallway, one with vaulted ceiling's and stone bricks.

The man that walked out from a nearby door looked liked a ragged, cloaked version of him. At first his eyes were cast to the dusty, earthen floor, and he looked so pale. His eyes were wide open, lost in his own mind. He lifted his head and looked out at her.

Claire prepared herself mentally to escape in case things got weird again.

"Claire." A voice echoed.

Her head darted around looking for the source anywhere she could, but it didn't seem to come from even the altered figure.

"Huh?" She whispered, confused.

. . .

Leon gently pulled his hand away from his legs, the blood gummy and thick between his fingers.

Tendons of barbed wire had risen from the living ground and thrust themselves through his lower limbs. How they did so on their own, he couldn't say, but that was the least strange thing going on.

In a tumultuous fit of motion, the wires abruptly removed themselves, ripping themselves out from his legs of their own volition.
Receding back to the ground they were still attached to, he writhed around in agony for a while as he noted the wet sand was genuinely annoying.

He stayed there for a long time, wondering where Wesker had gone, his hellish steed vanished as well.

In time his wounds seemed not to ache as badly, almost like he were awake enough to feel them change.

It still hurt, but not as sharply as before. The bleeding had stopped, at least at the entrance; shreds of the torn clothes he'd used had clotted to the wound, forming a stiff seal.
He leaned forward, reaching around to touch where the barbs had come out; again, a hardening, tacky patch of fabric beneath the pulsing ache of the wound.

He couldn't be positive, but he thought that the wires had gone straight through his flesh, missing the bone completely, which meant. . . He was extremely god-damn lucky.

'I have to get out of here, I have to survive.' He thought to himself.

He thought it was the shock of the trauma that had made him black out, perhaps he imagined Wesker's company, a subject of illness. Leon couldn't afford any more time to recover.
Falling asleep was bad enough, he didn't even know he could do that here. Clenching his teeth, Leon pushed himself up, his muscles cold and stiff from the damp chill.
It occurred to him, the desert was gone. The moisture was from the couch he laid on, the temperature now cool and surprisingly welcoming. He wondered what was up.

Gasping as the pain intensified, stabbing, broiling sensations surged in and out of his nerves, yet it ebbed, receding to the duller throbbing sensation after a few seconds.

He'd forced himself up to his feet and he stood grasping the edge of the couch for dear sanity.

Leon waited it out, inhaling deeply through his nose as he tried to regulate his breathing.
Reminding himself that it could have been a hell of a lot worse made it feel less awful somehow.

When he was finally on his feet fully, he decided he could take it.

He wasn't light-headed nor dizzy, and although there was blood on the floor and couch, his blood, there wasn't nearly as much as he'd thought there would be.

Careful not to jostle his wounds, Leon turned and walked back to the closed door of the waiting room, moving as quickly as he could.

Through the door, he was faced with another water-filled tunnel stretching off in either direction.
There was a ladder on the wall to his left, but he didn't even want to guess how he'd climb it without ripping open his legs - besides which, there was a loudly spinning fan at the top.

"No. . . Not this again." He can remember quite vividly. This is the path both Claire and Ada went back through when they were in the real Raccoon city.

He struck off to the right, stepping down into the dark water and sloshing forward, hoping that he'd see some sign as to where the exit is.

The water's flooded his wounds, it hurt so god damn much he nearly feel three times. Still, he trudged on, powered by a shock of adrenaline.

"Sleep my love, let the trees above protect you from the dark." A familiar voice started singing to him.

Her voice rolled over his ears in sorrowful waves as he waded through the empty liquids. Swells of power rose up in him to remembers this, but he couldn't tell if this was another trick.
The voice was graceful and kind, yet he knew the haunting feeling that the song was only brought out in a fit of loneliness, of pain. What warranted the sudden melody? Even the voice reminded him of. . .Manuela Hidalgo.

Behind him stood a young woman, one who was exceptionally beautiful, and a person he'd long since admired.

How is that. . .? Why?

Ada Wong stood in her red dress, preserved just as she was as she looked and said to the unknowing man, "You shouldn't be here."

He flinched, whipping his head around as he saw her.

"Ada. . . ! What-" He was cut off, she spoke over him.

"No time for argument." She said, "You have to leave. The light, you have to get to the light."

"Where is that!? Take me! We can get out together! I-" He didn't finish as she held out her finger.

"Shh. . . I'm not here for that. Just go." She said, and like that, she disappeared into a black fog.

The man stood perplexed as much as he was crushed. Where had she gone, was she real at all? He knew he needed to get out soon.
He turned back around to find a light had begun shining down on the path ahead. 'You have to get to the light. . .' Okay, here goes.

He began making his way forward through the still water again, his legs no longer pounding. The process of walking was a little easier now as he struggled on and on.

A small, barely visible wave moved against his knees. What caused that? He could only go forward, but what was happening here?
He went further, dragging the waters some more, like never before in fact, and he kept making his way as the waters kept still again, until. . .
Another wave, slightly bigger now, crashed against his knees.

He stopped, listening for anything, the demonic JD, the priest, zombies, anything. . . But he could see nothing down that long hall, try as he might.
Though it was something he hesitated to do, he kept going forward, the intent to persevere. Suddenly, the water level lowered, as if it were being drained.

"What the hell?" He commented aloud, before seeing a colossal thirty-foot-tall wave absorb all space in the tunnel, "What the hell!?"

The tsunami overcame him, washing him away out of the tunnel.

Tumbling over and over himself, the energy swept his body into another realm, the rush of the water obscuring his vision.

He must have been traveling at over 1000 miles, the speed was incredible.

Terrifying in it's own right, he had no idea where he was, whether he was going to the sea, or if this place wanted him elsewhere. The end result saw him rolling over on his side.
He hadn't hit anything, it was as if the entirety of the building behind him had just vanished again. He found himself washed up onto his front, his pounding head on the ground.
The freezing water chilled him to the very bone, even though his legs still bore him scorching excruciation. He pushed off the ground with his right hand to see that the ground was tiled.

Not that of the RCPD, no. . . The flooring was grey and sterile. He coughed for minutes on end, laying there exhausted.

Looking around, he got a grip of his surroundings more clearly. He saw white walls and lockers, bright enough they stung his eyes.

It was a school. . . It was Raccoon City's catholic middle school, to be exact.

He crawled to his feet, and he noticed, strangely, that his clothing had changed. He was no longer wearing what he'd become accustomed to.
It was his brown bomber jacket, his grey combat shirt and those black military cargos. . . Las Plagas. . . Why was he wearing this? Why now, why here?

He heard something from behind him.

Whipping his head around, he expected the worst, but got something else.

There was nothing at all, or so it seemed, as when he looked down the hall, it was entirely empty.

"Great, back-to-school-night. . ." He remarked to himself, grabbing his pistol with his fingerless-gloved hands.

It was still bizarre that he'd somehow switched clothes without even feeling it, though the holes in his pants were preserved from the shredding.

The wounds felt porous, he had to fix himself up soon. What was this doing to him in the real world? Questions for later, if there was ever going to be a later.

He couldn't rely on there even being a 'later' to reach right now.

Holding his weapon sights steady, he stalked the hallways in a field of tension, hoping he could find a way out of here, this old disturbing mystery.
The lights were dim, slowly scuttling between bright levels as their power seemed insufficient. There was a window on the side of the hall up ahead, where a view might be.
It was a complete oblivion, there was nothing outside apart from pure blackness. He couldn't see so much as a foot out into the dark. So it was night time, perfect.

As he glared at the hopeless void, Leon heard a metallic noise; someone had opened a door.

He stayed on high alert, pointing his gun out into the hallway. As he did so, he observed that the sound was indeed true, a door to a teacher's office had opened on it's own.

Even here, he wasn't safe. Leon's grip tightened as he slowly made his way over, keeping his eyes vigilant to the right side of the doorway.
Eventually, he saw inside was a well lit desk and a computer. An old landline telephone sat next to the name-plaque, on the opposite end of the desk.
Footsteps. Giant footsteps. A low, rumbling growl accompanied them.

"Hehe. . . Don't think you can run now. . ." The monster barked, it's horns poking out from the darkness of the adjacent hall, "I've finally found you!"

Those dead eyes, that cracked smile. No, not again. Leon's eye's widened, a bead of sweat forming on his temple.
There wasn't enough time to get away from that monster now, and his legs wouldn't let him be fast. His gun did nothing, and he wasn't in the best physical shape.
He took the only option he could.

Leon darted into the room and slammed the door behind him. He saw the contraption that let the door swing open up above.
He took one second and shot a bullet through the mechanism. The thing broke apart, and the wood essentially locked itself shut, becoming a barrier.

Kennedy looked around the cramped room for anything and though he knew it was a delusional escape, he hid himself under the desk.

It was cramped and painful, but he had to do it.

The creature roared and busted against the door and wall, causing dust and rubble to fall down all over the place as the entire structure vibrated with each blow.
It wouldn't let up trying as hard as it could to break through the barrier, roaring obscenities at Leon through the concrete and metal.
He held on tight to his pistol, and shrunk himself down as much as he possibly could. The creature banged so hard on the door it was unreal that it didn't disintegrate.

A moment of silence passed, the creature unexpectedly stopping its assault.

He heard a roar, and it suddenly ceased to exist. There were no footsteps, just silence.

Leon didn't dare emerge from the desk, for fear it was playing him, baiting him to safety. He stayed there for thirty minutes at least, biding his time until he was sure it was gone.
He took a huge breath in, calming himself as much as he could. This is getting to be a bad comedy. There seemed to be nothing, no more sounds or creeks as he listened intently.
Finally, after forty minutes, he pulled himself out from behind the desk, and found that the door had been kicked in a good foot, looking bent.

The walls were cracked, barely holding together the defense.

If the demon had taken it just a little further, it would have been inside.

He took a seat on the chair exhausted, slumping over as he briefly considered putting that barrel in his mouth. This was lunacy.
What had brought him here and for what purpose? That tidal wave was trippy, where'd that much water come from? He was asking for logic in a dark place like this.
It all felt so empty, but at least there was some respite inside the office. He found a flashlight on the table, that would come in handy.

Grabbing it, he tested the item. It flickered on, appearing to hold a steady beam. Good, good. That would be helpful. He placed it in his jacket, where his old one was normally kept.

It was weird to be dressed this way again, after so long.

"Still remember where the holster is. . ." He remarked as he place the light in the old spot.

He forgot how much he liked the jacket, but it still made no sense why it had suddenly appeared on him. Leon said flatly, "Jesus Christ."

A catholic school in the midst of Raccoon City, what unpleasant thoughts that conjured.
He'd never stopped to visit anyway back when, the idea of zombified children was too horrid.

He knew Sherry had attended one of the schools out there, but he didn't know which. Sherry. . . Funny thing, he hadn't thought about her in years, not since he'd met her as an adult.

So much had happened to a girl like her, he didn't get it. Life was weird. Difficult, even.

The phone rang, chirping in his ear a diseased caw. It rang out into the frigid air, the dust seeming to distort to it's sound waves. He went white.

Now, who could that be?

He picked up the phone and listened.

Words echoed into his brain, something horrible and profound. His eyes widened with shock, the phrases said to him with virtiol and blinding hatred. It ate him alive. Slowly, he left it on the desk and went for the door, a flurry of things rushing through his head. It felt like his chest was going break his rib cage at any moment now.

"God damn it, god damn this. . . I don't- I don't want to be here anymore!" He agonized, digging his fingers into his head. He gave up being hidden as he slammed the door roughly and its sound bellowed through the entire school building.

His ear caught the sound of breathing, he could sense someone was there with him.

Once he looked at the end of the hall, he saw her, his partner. The drab white paint of the school walls and the concrete flooring made for a depressing visual, he always did feel schools were prisons almost.

"Claire." He said to himself, his anguish bleeding away.

The woman looked around, though she could not find him. How? He was standing right there. Was this real?

"Claire!" He shouted, and it seemed as if something broke, then she saw him.

"Leon?" She called back, "I-Is it really you?"

Really him?

What?

"What are you talking about?" He replied, surprised, "Get ahold of yourself, we need to leave- How did you get here!?"

They ran toward one another across the hall, intent to just at least get some relief. She knew it was him, the first logical person who wasn't twisted in some way, and he knew her by the way she talked she had to be real. Her mere mention of it at least being the 'real' him spelled out that she'd become trapped here too, somehow. . .

As they drew closer, Leon's outstretched wrist hit a hard surface that stood between them. It was a sheet of invisible glass.

She was horribly confused, wondering what the hell he hit. She stopped and put her hands up, it was a clear wall.
In a rage, Leon smashed his fists against it, believing he could break the glass, and it pained her to see him try so hard against a surface that wouldn't break. He pounded against the 'glass' for minutes on end, smashing as hard as he could until his fist could bear it no more.

"Damn it!" He shrieked, giving one last bash of his right fist.

Finally, he stopped, but she could see hints of tears at the corner of his eyes.

What had he gone through? She knew he was there far longer than herself. It's something she didn't wish to find out. Four days her time in this horrible place. . . She couldn't imagine.

"It's okay. . ." She choked, "It's okay! We're-. . . At least we found our real selves."

She was right, that was something. He was just glad to see a real person again.

"How? Wh-. . . Why are you here?" He asked reaching for her cheek, in a vain effort to wipe her tears. He just touched the pane.

"I-I wanted to help you, I couldn't stay out there and do nothing."

"You. . . You came here for me. You can't be serious." He remarked, disappointed in her recklessness, "This is the last place I wanted you to be!"

"I know! I know," She retorted, "You have to understand! I-I couldn't let you go down, not this way. . . Not like this."

He gritted his teeth as tears welled in his eyes, the two barred from contact by the invisible wall. He knew she had done this out of a feckless affection, he always had meant to speak with her about it. He put it off so many times. This is his fault. . .

Their bittersweet reunion was cut short when a light far behind Leon switched off.

It was well down the corridor, far behind him. He let go of the wall, turning around to face what was beyond. As he did, another light cut out. Then another, and another. . . Soon, the lights began to rapidly shut off one at a time, marching towards them a frightening speed.

She banged on the glass herself, hoping in vain it would break, her perception of the world around them an old church rather than the spiffy school. She begged and begged for the barrier to fade but it would not do so. Finally, the last light shut off, and Kennedy vanished into darkness. She sank to her knees, screaming the word 'no.' Her fists tightened as she begged for the voluntary torture to end. Leon was right in his words, she'd made a mistake coming into this world after him.

"Leon! Leon, please!" She yelled in vain. But he wouldn't answer.

She stood still, left behind in the hall as the lights powered back on to reveal it completely empty. Leon was nowhere.

"Aaaaah!" She raged out, pounding the floor with a sullen fist.

To Be Continued

Thank you for reading

Thank you very Much Angel wolf for helping me.