Disclaimer: I have not, nor do I think I every shall own Resident Evil 4 and/or the song Build A God, Then We'll talk by Panic! At The Disco. Dude don't I wish though? I do however own any original material from the plot, including but not limited to original characters Rain, Mikaela, and the two special agents.

Edit Intro: So for the record I am going through and editing all of the chapters for this story that I can manage, as I haven't worked on it in some time. My hope is to add more depth, and breadth to a story not yet finished, also decent fucking formating. I'm glad to be back.

Started: March 20, 2010 Edited: Sept, 14, 2018 Pardon my dust, revamping for further expansion.

Finished: N/A

Build a God, The We'll talk.

By: Tamuril Telrunye

"The rooms have a hint of asbestos and maybe just a dash of formaldehyde, And the habit of decomposing right before your very la la la la eyes. Along with the people inside..." hummed my headphones steadily as I dropped my fare into the box before jumping down the stairs of the city bus. Walking down was overrated- I had to jump, kept a nice skip in my step, stopping to adjust the strap of my messenger bag I looked up.

The building in front of me was new, built only a few years back and well maintained- unlike the rest of the campus, it was just a shame that it wasn't where I was headed. Truth be told I was well on my way to work, or was it school? Work study, so perhaps it was both- even if I was reluctant to go to both.

In any case either way you look at it, it was both- 95% of my time? It goes on from there but I will leave off here for the sake of your sanity, not mine because have none left. My world was one of a college student, we are more prone to losing sanity then most. With a grin I set off for the library, heavy bag in tow as I pulled my shirt down further to negate the early morning chill. The first thing I did in the few minutes I had before the store opened was to go to the library, I spent a few minutes there, printing papers and sorting through lists before heading toward the school bookstore. Ah the bookstore, my first love and greatest bane.

Whipping around the corner of the building, too intent on reaching the bookstore I rammed full face into something- or as I my brain slowly came to the realization, someone else was heading the other direction. Bouncing off whoever it was I landed on my butt with a curse. A grunt from the wall was all I needed to know that it was indeed animate, and I had just made an ass out of myself.

"Sorry." I squeaked, pushing myself to my feet and taking a good look at the walking wall. Not a bad looking wall, if you discard the ugly scar maring his face- He wore a black shirt, skin tight revealing hard packed muscle. You know, the type of thing that has any relatively straight lady bits saying 'oh hello there, let's get to know each other.'- which I mercilessly stamped on because I was trying not to be an airhead right now, and there was nothing that guaranteed that I would be more mentally useless then acknowledging that I found someone attractive. He was big- more than six feet tall, blond and he also wore camo pants and a strange belt/holster arrangement. This conversation was going to be hard- although I generally went more ga ga over men with dark hair, but I couldn't tell you why.

"Che, watch where yer going kid." Was all he said before turning to leave- and all I could think as he began to walk away was 'hu, all that build up and I didnt even have to say anything.' there was relief in that, because of course I didn't want to make a fool of myself. But then he stopped, and I could see him mentally debating something before he turned around again. "Hey, you know where the administration building is in this place?"

To be honest I wasn't surprised that he didn't know, the campus was pretty confusing- I was more surprised that he would be interested in finding it, but then we did get ex-military types in here all the time looking to take classes. People who left the military in general were pretty hard up for options because as a whole they joined right after highschool, and that didn't necessarily mean that they were well enough versed in being an adult to know how to deal with civilian life after leaving again.

"Yeah," I said with a slight stutter before shifting into 'customer service mode' walking over to him I pointed to a building in the distance, "See that building there?" I pointed to the cafeteria, "It's just behind it, see the further up the hill you go, the more important the building. Ain't nothing in this campus straightforward." Kicking myself for the lack of grammar I dropped my hand again, I was even born in the south- but my accent was from my family.

"Thanks," was all He said before stomping off, which reaffirmed to me at least that he was ex-military, or possibly just military in general. Had to be, with a sigh I resummed walking- I worked at the bookstore. Why was it my first love you ask? Because I loved to read, I loved the write and I loved working with books, but why my greatest bane? Because I could only take so many idiots before I snapped, and started drawing mustaches on school newspapers... I know, not a terrible threat, but I find if I vent my anger on other people nothing good comes of it, and there is a lot of anger to vent, particularly when idiot in question makes a crack about how expensive books are.

Yes, we know they are expensive. There is NOTHING we can do about it, we don't control the price of the books. The publishing companies do, and it's a bitch- We barely make enough as a store to support the staff that we have, trust me I know. As a worker there I would never make a cent above minimum wage, nor would anybody else in the store. Primarily I worked as info desk personnel, which is both a blessing and a curse. But taken into the proper perspective anything can be, so I don't dwell- I only accept the fact and move on life is hard, nothing new to see here move along.

Really, I did love my job- I just put up with a lot of crap, this makes me crabby, and sarcastic. Well okay, maybe I was always sarcastic, but perhaps this job was making me a bit bitter? Slipping into the back room, closing the door only just so. Making sure the next person could get in, "Good morning." I threw over the barrier between me and the back room manager, as I heard her talking to someone on the phone- Poor Anya, always busy. She is my hands down my favorite manager, always sweet, always understanding. I liked to talk with her about books, she knew just about everything about the bookstore and then some.

"Good Morning Rain." Was thrown back, and I waved at Sammy, the ordering manager- She was wonderful, if a little quiet. But I always put that down to her being distracted, as she was now making coffee and on the phone with some business or another, she was also always busy.

I opened my locker (Which wasn't really mine, I didn't have one so I used someone else's and they didn't care) and dropped my bag and coat off inside. Pulling out a stack of papers I grabbed a cup of coffee before dropping my papers off at the front, and heading back to check on the schedule. It never changed to drastically, but this was finals week and I wanted to make sure that I was clear on my hours. The billing managers office was dark, as it always was in the morning but I flipped the lights on as I noted the lack of change in my hours before tottering off to clock in, and turn the lights on in the general manager's office.

Yes, four managers- Because we deal with so much merchandise, be it books, computer software, or just plain school supplies we had to have more than one manager, and they worked their butts off- I usually arrived before most of them because I took the bus. Scampering up to the help desk, I set it back to rights. Turning chaos into order once more as I scowled at the mess that the evening worker left- Although I could hardly blame them, but I was still put out. As I usually was, but only because I could be, I brightened back up as I sipped from my morning cup of ambrosia, before waving at the cashiers and opening up the doors, same ol same ol.

My customer service smile slipped into place at the frantic students as they grabbed last minute test supplies, food and energy drinks. A lot of them had pulled all-nighters, not the best way to approach a test, but to each their own. Grimacing as I read over some last minute hasty notes a familiar sweater came into view just above the desk as I scowled at a confusing tid bit, before perking up and pulling a face at my friend Mikaela.

"I cannot understand how you can be so perky in the morning, for a self professed night owl." She grumbled, taking a long drink from a paper Stirbucks cup.

"Takes practice." I paused for a moment, "And copious amounts of coffee... And music."

"Weirdo."

"Yes and?" She stuck her tongue out at me as I pulled a spare chair over. "So... What's crackin mclackin." I couldn't help grinning at our usual (But weird) catch phrase, it was the bastard child of a mocking attempt at street and a bad nickname for her place of work. I'll let you put two and two together.

"Its club business." Ah crap. I must have also voiced this sentiment because she was grinning. The club as it were was something I only joined and attended because of her intervention, and I always regretted it when she fielded something out to me. Politics were just not my thing, why I joined a club that was thus oriented was beyond me. A grin on her face made me instantly uncomfortable and she said "I thought you would give me that look."

"So, yeah. What about?" I commented, very suspicious of her all to bright smile- her politicians smile as it were, and I knew she was going to ask me to do something I wouldn't like. In truth I was only supposed to be the club recorder, writing down the meeting logs, and keeping track of when we were all meant to meet. But there was alway room for her to talk me into something apparently.

"Well, you know how there's this big to do about the president's daughter visiting?" She said this in the form of a question, as if I hadn't been keeping track of just that for the club in question. Of course I knew that President Graham's daughter was supposed to be here at a specific time, and she knew this- my eyes narrowed at this before I affirmed this verbally. "Yes."

"Well, you know how she is going to be touring around the school, right?" Again the smile, and my suspicion deepened- I knew where this was going.

"Yes."

"Your gonna show her around." This was said with such a cheerful tone that I flinched, if I disagreed there was a hint to her voice that said that I wouldn't be happy about it, but some things I had to put my foot down on.

"What?" I said a bit too loudly, voice dead panned expression matching it. Her sunny looked seemed now much more ominios and she said again far to brightly. "I thought you would say that."

"Why should I be the one to show her around? You know how well I get on with people I barely know." Which was not well, really despite my position of customer service agent I wasn't really a people person. At the desk I had a script, and I held tight to my script like a lifeline. Her next comment however hit my like a sucker punch- "Because it has been delegated as such." She said, hands in guarded pose in front of her.

"Or not? I am getting low man on the totem-poled again aren't I?" I was the least senior member of the club, and it was very likely that the other members were delegating this to me because of finals week- which I wouldn't usually mind, if someone had bothered to speak to me about it beforehand. But getting it assigned to me like this was more than a little annoying.

"Yep." She said voice still chipper, and I gave her a glower before speaking "I hate you, just so's you know." Again I was thinking about quitting the club, and I gave her a look that said as much but all she said was, "I know." Fetching friendship, fetching friends, something told me that I would be happier if I had a hut in the wilderness far from other people.

"Shouldn't the Dean or at the very least the student body president be doing this? I mean, I know he isn't a fan but it is HIS job to deal with the hoity toity." I said sourly, scowl still in place. "Well, generally yes. But the Dean is in Mexico, a late vacation or something. Can't make it back on time, and the student body president is sick in the hospital. The doctors think he has some obscure virus."

"Joy. So, why delegate to me hu? Yer the big cheese of our group."

"It is true that I am the president of the Political club, but I am afraid my attention is elsewhere. And I don't trust anyone else not to scare her away."

"What you mean is that you are too busy preparing for finals because you slacked off until now, and your shoving this duty off on me not only because I have one final to go but because I am your friend, and I will forgive you for it. Right?"

"... Yes, actually. Do you still love me?" She gave me her patented kicked puppy look and I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I still less than three you. Now go, I must work if I am to school in the future."

"YAY," she glomped me in my chair before skipping to the door, "She gets here tonight m'kay, so be polite and don't make too many voodoo dolls. Five-ish like, in front of administration." And off she went, and I still wanted to kick her.

Reporters abounded, looky loos and school reps floating around in a loose form of order, and I sat center stage twitching at the occasional click of a shutter or screech of a mic. Really I was not a people person, if I am not at work I won't consider say two words to most people, unless they talk to me first. A nod and a wave is the most people will get without starting the conversation, turning my attention back to the zoo at hand I was rewarded with some change.

A limousine pulled into the schools entrance, and shutters started clicking like a jittery tap dancer, drowning out anything and everything around me as I tried to calm my heart rate and block out the noise, my ears sadly were very sensitive, and were suffering now because of it. The limo pulled up and out climbed one dark haired agent followed soon by another, then a young blond haired woman in an orange shirt and green skirt combo. It struck me as an odd thing to wear, but whatever as long as she was comfortable what did I care? I mean, I was wearing black jeans, and a red polo shirt.

Nothing to spiffy, professional casual as someone told me once- the girl, whom I was assuming was the President's daughter walked out to the little podium we had, and with a confidence I had to envy delivered a speech about being happy to tour our fine facility blah, Blah, blah- I had Adhd it was difficult to keep track. Thankfully it didn't last long and with that she was glad to be able to visit our little community college, on the way (Which was bull, because we were WAY out of the way). Another speech about higher learning ect. But finally it was over and she was introduced to me as her 'Guide' we did the whole shake hands and smile for the camera bit, and we were off as I pointed out different buildings commenting on purpose, and explaining their history.

It wasn't to different from orientation for new students (Which I've done a million times) save for the crowd of followers that seemed intent on catching any fault or misstep on my part. Although I am sure that any misstep on my part wouldn't be as juicy as one of hers. I almost felt sorry for her, living under a microscope for reasons that weren't even hers. It was one thing to ask to be famous, an entirely different one to be so because your parents were.

Leading her towards the employee lounge in central admin building, a brief respite from the retinue of gawking meerkats that called themselves people, I 'gently' slammed the door to the lounge shut with a sigh, glaring at the wood between me and the people outside as if it had done me a personal wrong. Was it too much to ask it to exploded, and kill the crowd outside? Okay maybe that was a bit extreme, but I didn't want to be here- and I didn't like people.

Particularly large crowds- turning back, I noticed that the special agents, whom I have been referring to as Tim and Tom (They looked so much alike I couldn't distinguished between them. Which is, let's face it very frightening in its own way. I half expected them to call me "Mr. Anderson."). They were speaking low into their nifty head sets, conferring back and forth between themselves and someone else, before a brief pause.

Walking towards the snack table that had been set up, grabbing a bottle of water and shoving it into my bag. Helping myself to a couple of cookies, I grabbing a few for later as well. Raiding the snack table in as subtle a way as possible, before the blond cleared her throat loudly. "What are you doing?"

"Taking advantage of the spread." I said shoving a cookie into my mouth, it was peanut butter, and wonderfully soft. One thing I would never apologize for was taking advantage of free food- honestly it bothered me that it bothered other people, because like a spread of free food like this would either be entirely eaten, or thrown out. This was helping, tucking a few things away for later didn't hurt anyone.

"No, your stealing."

"Not stealing if your allowed to take it, 'sides they'll just throw it away or let it go bad. I am doing the world a favor by stocking up." What can I say? Call it a hoarders mindset but, I have the urge to squirrel things away for use in the future. Not everything mind you, just things I see as useful, and food is definitely useful.

"You'll never be able to eat it all. You'll just end up wasting it too."

"And that is where you're wrong. I will eat it regardless of its state." Which is also, regretfully true. I don't waste food, even if its stale it's still edible- Albeit a little on the crunch side. The look on her face said it all, and really I couldn't blame her for that- but I was raised not to waste food. "That's just, ew that is gross."

"You've clearly never been a starving college student before."

"I am too a college student."

"Yes, but you are hardly starving." She didn't seem to have much to say to that, as I downed another cookie before picking up a few oranges and shoving them into my pack. Another loud clearing of a voice and I turned towards the agent closest to us. "Miss." the agent nodded at me, this is where I get in trouble. "Miss Graham."

"Yes," her thick country drawl coming out.

"There appears to be a problem, we are going to deal with it accordingly. James will stay here with you while I sort it out." Hu, James then? I looked at the other man, he appeared to be a bit younger. The junior agent I guess? "Ok, be careful."

"Yes Ma'am." And off he went, I wonder what could be so important that one of the ticks would leave to investigate... Ok, so I ain't being fair with that nickname. They are secret service, but they still tick me off… Get it, Tick? Ah, you got no sense of humor.

Either way, a good five minutes passes us by, and I am still eating and squirreling. If she wasn't gonna eat it I would- I mean I am a growing girl. Meanwhile I was watching the agent out of the corner of my eye, and I didn't like what I was seeing.

Where special agents supposed to sweat in cool weather? He kept fidgeting, body language is a good indicator of the sort of situation one is in- Perhaps it was time I make my exit. The lobby of the building seemed to be clear now, looky loo's attention spans mirroring the goldfish in length. But before I could do anything else I was stopped by a hand on my bicep. A loud sound, almost like someone dropping one of the metal chairs off the second floor, but not.

They say the mind will rationalize just about anything, like for instance a gunshot? Well mine did, for about five seconds- but I knew, deep down that it was a gunshot. As sure as I knew as a child that the gun my grandpa put in my hands on the range could kill a man, if I learned to aim it right. And I did, one of the few things my Grandfather got to teach me before his last stroke. The agent dove at us pulling us both behind a table, pulling his own side arm. "Miss, is there another way out of this room?"

"Yeah," I paused half panicked, "This way." He grabbed the president's daughter Ashley? and pushed her towards me, following as I ran toward the back door. It led (Creatively) out the back of the building, and into the small garden that the Botany club used as a show area. It was never used because it led through the bed of flowers, but I don't think anyone will give a fig about it at the moment. I led them towards the corner of the building, there was a trail we could use to get her to the limo.

There wasn't a doubt in my mind that no one would care about me after she was safe, a self thought really, and a selfish reason to want her to get to safety- but it was a reason nonetheless. Another gunshot, this one not far behind us, and as I whipped around the corner my mind screamed a warning but my body didn't follow, in fact all other thought was dashed from my mind as I grumbled about the second strangely flesh colored wall I'd just run into that day. Who put a wall there anyways? My brain took a moment to catch up, and I realized that this was not a wall. Taking a breath I moved to step back, only to find my arms grabbed roughly.

"Well, well, well. What have we here, A couple of school girls get lost out on a trip?"

I turned, trying to find a way out only to see the agent raised his side arm, shoving Ashley behind him, and now I was a meat shield, my first thoughts were- mommy must have been proud, and I went to college for this? Oh how far I've come. "Shoot and you kill the girl."

"Let the girl go, she isn't involved." I could feel his voice rumble from here, and my pulse sped up, my breath doing the same.

"Oh I wouldn't say that, I think she just got involved." A scuffle was taking place behind the agent, the other agent fighting hand to hand with someone else, and I prepared to make my move. Someone in black stepped up behind agent Jim, and I moved. Bringing up my foot I stomped on his instep and bit his arm, before pulling him up and over my shoulder in a move that would have made my contrary self defense instructor cry. He flopped down like a sack of potatoes and I dodge towards the trees, running for a small stand of rose bushes.

There was an opening that led deeper into the huge bush, and I knew safety when I saw it- A scream behind me told me that Ashley hadn't been as lucky as I had. As I hit the edge of my bolt hole I felt a grip on the back of my shirt, dragging me backwards my hands scraping on gravel as I struggled, fighting for anything- no fighting for everything, I didn't know what this person wanted with me, and I wasn't going to give up without a fight.

"Fuckin hellcat." I heard, it was the blond man. I kicked up without aiming, catching soft flesh. A sound of pain as hands immediately dropped me, and off I was again actually making it partially into the bush before my shoulder bag got caught on the thorns surrounding me and a hand gripped the loose waistband of my pants. "Not so fast bitch." And he was right, as I wriggled out of my pants almost home free. Before a hand gripped my ankle and pulling me back despite my kicks. Thorns dug into my shirt, holding me and digging into my skin before I the force behind me proved to be to much.

"God damn." My ankle was let go, as a large hand once more gripped the back of my shirt another large hand pressing a wet cloth to my mouth and nose. Hold breath I told myself, hold breath, my mind screamed at me as my body fought for air, hitting and kicking, struggling for all I was worth. This man could kill me, or worse. I wasn't gonna just let that happen. But even as my blows weakened I knew I'd used up most of my cards, and for a moment I pretended to go limp. Hoping he would fall for it, but no such luck. He punched a fist into my stomach, forcing air out of my lungs and the foul substance in, and I knew no more.

What seemed like only a few minutes later, I felt the ache and pound of my mind. Cringing as the ground moved beneath me... Wait, ground. Moving? Not bloody likely. I was in a vehicle, and a loud one. I played possum for a while, listening to some sort of conversation. "Aww what is that, a love bite?" A sultry voice said. "Shut up, bitch bites like a horse."

"And what do you plan to do with her? It isn't like Saddler needs her for anything. You have the President's daughter, why kidnap her friend?" This second voice was feminine, and more mocking then helpful in tone.

"Because I figure I can impress him with an idea I had." The male voice was familiar, but with the ache in my head I couldn't put my finger on just why. "Oh? Do enlighten me."

"Figure this, two pawns are better than one."

"Now that's clever Krauser, and here I thought you had trouble putting two and two together."

"Bitch, you don't shut yer mouth I'll do it for yah."

"Now that isn't nice."

"Wesker don't pay me to be nice." I heard a clacking of heels, and then nothing but the hum of an engine as it lulled me from my drugged haze and back into the realm of half dreams.

A/N: If Krauser seems to be a bit OOC at the beginning, it's because I am working off the assumption that he at least has some humanity in him, if not much. He's in public, and as far as anyone is concerned a normal if heavily scarred guy.