[Resident Evil Series #2]
[Piers Nivans X OC] Abused, abandoned, abducted, alone. Cheryl Hansenʼs life revolved around terrorism. But when she reunites with her childhood friend who reminds her of home, he taught her again what she learned from him...
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May 27, 2009
San Diego, USA
I'D ALWAYS THOUGHT THAT I lived a miserable life. At the age of fourteen, I was left to fend for myself. My mother died of loneliness due to the love of her life betraying us, left us for his mistress. I had no other relatives to turn to and there I only worked part-time as a maid in this sad and boring family of middle class during the night, so that I can swallow the bitterness of living every day without any direction, even if I do go to school during the day and I have so-called 'friends'. However, they do not fill the gaps in my heart to make my life even worth living.
After two years, that is, I started to wonder...
I wonder if the people who once knew me even noticed my sudden disappearance? Even if I didn't even bother much in their life, there was once a moment in my life where I wondered if I even crossed their mind and acknowledged my existence; that there was a person who knew I existed... still existed, physically alive... somewhere.
To my utter disappointment, I'm still alive. Not that it matters anymore, because for the past few years I was held in confinement, I wished every day for death.
But how much time has it been since I have been rescued from solitary confinement?
Although I have been reassured many times that I am finally safe from the hands of the bio-terrorists, I still couldn't differentiate what the terrorists had done to me and what the government has been doing to me over the course of the weeks I have been in the labs.
I was afraid of people, all they ever did was hurt me. I could never bring myself to trust them.
But unlike the terrorists, the people who took me in their care actually looked like they mean no harm to me... at least that's what they'd always tell me whenever they needed a sample of my blood. Not that it matters, they're all the same.
I have been a test subject for as long as I can remember. Three years ago, when I was only sixteen, I was abducted on my way home from work. I learned that this organization was abducting people from around the world, just to get different kinds of unique genes. We all shared the same fear, terror and pain. They had injected us with something, and they all turned into some kind of monster.
They said that it was designed to sustain life, to transcend human beings and the test subjects, as we were labeled then, weren't supposed to turn that way, though they had expected that outcome. They were all eliminated; they all died... all but me. For some reason, the virus was very slow to take effect on my body, which exempted me from death, though I'm not sure if I want it. The symptoms were very high fever to the point of seizures and hallucinations. They let me suffer things that are far worse than death. "Please... please just kill me." I had forgotten how many times I've begged for them to end my misery, but they only watched me with those impassive eyes as if that was normal. The virus' effects were so slow that it was enough time for the scientists to produce a prototype vaccine. They tried it on me. It was supposed to exterminate the virus; however, for some reason, I have gained powerful antibodies to the virus they were creating. When they were done with their examinations on my body, and with a means of curiosity and a need for more evaluation, I was shipped to Africa.
