Unlike Anyone Else (resident evil)

Nightmares

   Jill was sitting in the same bar she had been last night. In the same seat. She was about the only one in there, only the bartender across from her, cleaning a glass at a slow pace. There was a glass in front of her. She wondered how many she had already had. But she felt good right now, so it couldn't have been too many. Suddenly she heard the sound of somebody sitting next to her at the bar, so she turned her head to see who it was.

   Brad.

   She smiled at him.

   It's been so long since we've been able to do this. She went to say, but the words wouldn't come out. She couldn't speak. She could only look at him. He was smiling at her, looking to the bartender to order a drink.

   She saw something come up behind him. She quickly realized what it was.

   An infected civilian was approaching Brad at an increasingly fast pace. Jill tried to cry out, but she couldn't. She reached for her handgun, her holster wasn't even there. It came up behind Brad and grabbed him, one hand on his shoulder, one disgusting hand on the side of his head.

   It pushed his head to the side and dug its teeth into his neck with force, ripping skin, tendons, anything it could get to. She couldn't hear him, but Brad's face contorted with obvious pain, reaching out toward her. Her ears were ringing, she didn't even hear the sound of the infected growling as it tore Brad apart. His blood splattered onto her face and clothes. It felt like it was happening in slow motion.

   Finally, in this terribly silent scene, one booming word left Brad's lips,

   "Jill-!"

   Jill shot upright in her bed, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. She immediately felt her stomach rise, and she scrambled off the bed to find the bathroom. She knelt by the toilet and felt as though she was there forever, like she was emptying the entirety of her stomach.

   After she was done she flushed the toilet and leaned her head against the wall, trying to calm her breathing down.

   Jill was used to nightmares. At least, she was used to them happening. They were different every time, each more intense than the last. They seemed to feel even more real when she drank. Which she did a lot last night.

   That nightmare. Brad getting infected. He was so stupid. Why would he sacrifice himself for her? Or maybe he just knew he would turn and wanted to protect her.

   She thought she didn't deserve that.

   Thinking of her dream made her feel sick again, but her stomach had nothing left to give.

   Jill slowly got up, the wall keeping her steady. Finally she made it out of the bathroom and looked at the time on a nearby clock.

   5 am.

   Only 3 hours of sleep? And not good sleep either. She struggled back to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Yeah she definitely needed a shower.

   God her head was pounding though, and she didn't have anything for it, or any clothes to change into for that matter. So she made her way back to the bed in the middle of the room.

   She decided she would go back out and buy some clothes and some aspirin. However, after sitting back on the bed, she found it was way more comfortable than anything she had slept on in days, and couldn't find the strength to stand up again. So she curled up, her head on a pillow and willed herself back to sleep.

***

   In hindsight, this was a bad idea.

   This time Jill dreamed of herself in the hospital Carlos and her had found themselves in during the events of Raccoon City. Carlos was there, too. It was just like the god awful dream she had there. He would walk into the room, and smile at her.