Author Note: It's been awhile since I've written a chapter for this story but I feel that this one is very adequate and also very.. creepy. It's a lot more violent than normal and I would love to see how you guys take it ;) This chapter includes the DEATH of a rather infamous character. Gee.. who could it be?

Reviews are, as always, appreciated and if you have any wild ideas for this story, let me know. ;p -- [email protected]

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Chapter 7 - Drowning

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Claire glanced out the window to check up on the storm; the rain was attacking the panes so violently that she wondered if they would break. Deciding they wouldn't, she pressed her nose against the glass and stared out into the darkness, focusing on the dim light that was Paris at night. She thought about walking in those streets with Steve, treating it like the trip to Hawaii they had never gotten to take. "Aloha," she murmered. "Aloh-fucking-ha."

She'd considered apologizing to him and she'd considered telling him she loved him, but the words didn't want to come out of her mouth. When words didn't want to come, it was always best to wait for them; she knew that from experience. Until the words came she was stuck with a broken-hearted boy three rooms down, an anxious brother in the room across and a RPD cop trying to woo her next door. Despite this, she was glowing with this profound sense of love and the image of them kissing on his bed was on replay in her head. They had kissed twice and she didn't want the feeling to die. Ever. She wanted to capture it in a bottle and place it in a secure area where nothing could penetrate it and nothing could ruin it. It was untouchable and when she was with him, they were untouchable. She closed her eyes, living in the feeling which was still so vivid, imagining that they were out there in the storm. Oh yes, she could feel his arms wrapping around her waist.. she could feel him..

It was raining so hard that she failed to hear the claws scraping against the glass. If she had turned her head left, she would have seen a pale face with blonde hair leaning against the outside of her window. If she had turned her head left, she would have had a chance. If she had turned her head left, she would have seen the hateful glare of Albert Wesker and his special Hunter who was eagerly clawing at the window.

It wasn't meant to be. She turned her head right and lazily hit the lightswitch. Claire Redfield collapsed onto her bed, quickly falling into a sleep that consisted of Hawaii, Gold Lugers and happiness.

Outside, drenched in rain, Wesker looked into the window and watched the sister of his arch-nemesis sleep. "It's almost time now," he said, patting the Hunter and effectionately scratching its head, "Almost time for them to learn the meaning of true pain." The Hunter growled in agreement as Wesker scratched its head again, checking his watch. It was almost time for stage two of his plan to be carried out. Soon all would be good in the world and the Redfields would get taught a lesson. Glorious day!

The promise the night held was enough to make Wesker grin as he jumped down from the window and beckoned for the Hunter follow. It was time to check on the other members of the household, to ensure there would be nothing standing between him and his revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge.

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Steve couldn't sleep. He tossed, he turned, he counted Tyrants and eventually sat up. The question that was keeping him from shutting his eyes was quite simple: did Claire love him? He didn't know how to deal with the rejection that she constantly threw at him because he knew that she had feelings for him. They had kissed twice; both times were started by her. He realized that she probably wasn't sure how to deal with it, but why? That's what was bothering him and keeping him from sleep. Of course, aside from the problem she had of expressing her feelings, a wild card named Leon Kennedy existed.. did they have something? Something he should know about?

He sighed. He had to know. It was as simple as that.

The teenager got up and stepped out of his room. He padded down the hall and stopped outside a certain nineteen year old's door.

Knock. Knock.

After a brief moment: "Jesus, it's three am... who's there?"

"Your knight in shining armor."

The door opened.

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Jill Valentine pulled the video out of the VCR and grinned as she placed it back into the container. She looked back at Chris who was sitting on the couch in the house's den. "Good movie, huh?"

He nodded. "I can't believe the Night of the Living Dead people portrayed zombies like that though. I mean, if only they were that easy to defeat.. then maybe so many wouldn't die.."

She sighed as she saw his happy expression slowly turning worried. Jill quickly steered him off the subject: "Forget about zombies. There's you. There's me. There's a couch."

"There are also other people in the house." He said, being sensible like always.

She stood up and sat down on the couch, leaning on him in an attempt to change his mind."They're asleep."

"But.."

"No buts," she said as she put her lips against his to silence him.

As it turns out, his mind was easily changed.

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Leon was typing on his computer with his headphones on, trying to figure out the Umbrella Headquarter's floor plan when he heard a scratching sound. He turned around to check out what it was and found something cold pressing directly into the center of his forehead. It was a glock.

"Wesker.." He choked back a scream as he saw the Hunter in the man's shadow.

"Well, well. Fancy seeing you here.. hello, Leon. Ada sends her sincerest apologies that she couldn't make the meeting," he said, seemingly oblivious of the beast standing next to him. Wesker looked at the young man's eyes and followed their gaze to the Hunter. "This is m'pet, doesn't have a name. Injected him with some of Alexia's virus, lovely stuff, isn't it? Immortal."

Leon nodded slowly.

"What's a matter, cat got your tongue?" Wesker paused, waiting for a response. Realizing he wasn't going to get one, he pressed the gun against the ex-cop's forehead with more force. "I asked if the cat had your tongue?"

"No. No sir. No." Oh god, how he wished this wasn't happening. "What do you want?"

"What are the group's plans for tomorrow?"

"Oh, we were.. going to.. look at Umbrella's main building.. we need to get the plans down, ya know?" He was trembling and from the strain that was surrounding the crotch of his paints, he'd pissed himself. Poor, idiotic fool.

"And Chris?"

"Chris and Jill were going to rent a motel room a few streets away from the company's headquarters, to spy."

"What was the hotel's name?" The boy was giving him so much information. Amazing what people would do to save their life.. their pathetic, worthless life. Albert was never going to have to worry about dying- he'd beaten that demon a long time. Nothing could kill him now. He was superman minus the good deeds and weakness to kryptonite. He barely managed to resist the urge to burst into laughter as he waited for a response.

"..I think it was a really five star one. You know? The kind that famous people go to," he looked at Wesker hopefully, ".. that's all I have."

"I also want one more thing from you.." The former police chief paused, deliberately keeping Leon in suspense.

"Anything. Anything! It's yours!"

"...I want you dead."

Leon's eyes lit up as he took the words into his brain, processing them. He went into shock when he realized their meaning. He couldn't die this way! He had escaped zombies, he had killed Mr. X, he had fought Dr. Birkin. He wasn't meant to die a coward's death.. he wasn't meant to die begging.. he wasn't meant to--

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Leon gasped and fell onto the floor. A few seconds later, his thoughts ended and he died an anti-climatic death from the three shots to the head. After a few minutes of silence, the Hunter dashed over to the fallen officer and started to gnaw on his leg. Crunch, crunch.. hey, it tasted just like chicken! It was happy. Wesker was happy. Glorious day! Glorious day!

"Thank god for silencers," laughed Wesker as he stuck the gun back into his holster and scratched the pet's head once again. Crunch, crunch. "Now lets see where that Chris is.."

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A few rooms over, Claire pulled away from a kiss that was shared with Steve, sat up on her bed and looked into the darkness. "Did you hear that? It sounded like a gunshot.."