The car crawled cautiously over the rocks and large branches that riddled the bushwhacked trail he only knew from dreams. He got stuck only twice in the softened earth by the mangroves, and jammed flat discs of stone between the tires and the mud, determined to reach his destination. As he pressed the gas and pulled the car forward with a wet, organic sucking sound, part of him thought he shouldn't be doing this alone. The other part told him he wasn't.
He battled that thought back like it was molded and continued driving until the trees got too thick and too dense to weave through. It didn't seem so long ago he was pulling up to this very same spot. Eight months, he thought, eight months of shit nightmares just to be back here again. Putting the car in park, he muttered a string of vulgarities, and stepped into the dewy Louisiana air. Clouds of insects swarmed between the trees as he followed the overgrown path to the house. He reminded himself to be thorough, inspecting the sawblades, looking through the lynched dolls' hollow bodies, and cracking open the door to the Swamp Gator's van in search of anything he might've missed and found nothing.
The guest house smiled with twisted wooden teeth beyond the wrought iron fence. The white paint that once covered it peeled away in crooked shards as lichen and calcified mold took its place. The huge tendril that once was Eveline hung stiffly over the shattered remains and broke apart into dust, washing the surrounding yard with grey.
"God, I hope she's dead," he breathed to himself as strange doubt clawed at his chest. He pushed the iron gate open with his shoulder as it dragged over the unkempt ground, keeping his eye on the calcified body. The gate shrieked as its hinges scraped against each other for the first time in months with a cry so piercing he expected the corpse to twitch instinctually. A flickering in the corner of his eye made it seem like she might have. He waited to see if it would happen again. The wind through the trees laughed at him, waving derisively for his attention, but the stalk of the former bioweapon remained still. His guard settled hesitantly, as if she would lurch to life as soon as it fell. "God, I really fucking hope she's fucking dead."
He approached the main house cautiously as the tri-colored cerberus called him forward. An uncharacteristic yellow swath hung underneath the three dogs' heads that he couldn't distinguish from a distance. Walking up the porch stairs that creaked and warped under his weight, he paused outside the door and saw the yellow form was a warning, embossed with Umbrella's insignia. Written in rushed, slashing strokes, it read, "Biohazard evac immediately avoid all contact" and further down, barely legible, "hold your fire and retreat do not attempt to terminate the target it will not fucking die." Ethan lifted the paper and checked the back, finding it blank, and the paper fell lazily, returning to its ominous position. "Great." Ethan muttered to himself, filling the silence that he alone occupied. "Talk about 'you missed a spot.'"
Pushing the main door open and turning his phone light on, he walked through the entry hall and the long winding hallway. Every window and crack in the split wooden walls was sealed shut with grey and white calcium veins that solidified the already tough organism. He rounded the corner into the dining room where the infestation thinned out and stood quietly for a moment, waiting to hear heavy footprints from the other room, or the breathy groans of those monsters who only knew to kill. The hum of the insects and the creaking of the old wooden walls were all that sounded near him. His guard dipped at the perceived clearance of danger but he kept his ear strained for any sign of movement that wasn't his own.
He opened a pot that sat on the kitchen counter, expecting to find the same cannibal stew that had always been there, and almost dropped the heavy lid when a half-rotten face lolled back at him instead. Its eyes rolled back and its mouth hung drily open, long grey teeth and opaque eyes growing from the open brain. The remains of its helmet donned the sign of Blue Umbrella.
YOU ARE READING
The One That Got Away
Fanfiction{Resident Evil 7 Fanfiction} Eight months after the Dulvey Incident, a series of loose threads leads Ethan back to the Baker house after he receives a cryptic message from someone unexpected.