Resident Evil Revival

Chapter 20

Steve could feel fear creeping him in an instant. His heart rung in his ears before he had even reached the fifth level. He knelt there, Staring at where he saw his allies and friends letting him call out his own execution. He knew death was ahead of him. Maybe if he had a partner going up with him who had the same talents he had, he would have felt safe, knowing he could return to the bottom floor. This was not the case, though. He was alone, as he always had been.

Steve's eyes opened as he realized that he had always felt this way. Even at a young age, he was always alone. He loved his mom and dad and they loved him back, but they always spoke to Steve as if he was slow, mentally. That something about him was enough o make him "special". Maybe they were right in some points of the matter but he was not weal nor did he ever needed anyone's help. He stood for himself in school. He defended himself whenever he got into an argument with his parents. He never blamed himself when they thought about breaking up. Steve stood himself as he was finding some odd strength hiding within himself. He may not catch on all the time and he may not be the smartest person in the facility, but he knew damn well he was never weak in his life.

"I can kill 'em," he said in a bit of a soft growl. Steve could kill 'em. at the very least, he could as many as he could to make sure his friends can take care of the rest. No matter how many there were ahead of them. What they look like or what they even are did not matter to Steve. He had to muster as much courage he had to give as he waited for the fifth level to be reached. He wasn't ready but he did not care anymore, "Kill 'em all."

Steve was focused and his eyes glowed as he felt the elevation cease its rising. He visibly could his body shake in the pattern of his heart. Slow but heavy and powerful. Just like him. the whirring of the elevator slowly hummed down as he then could hear several groans and clawing against the gate ahead of him. His hands were firm on his assault rifle as he aimed forward. He felt his thumb against the safety and flipped it off. Steve was ready, "Kill 'em all and survive!" He demanded himself before the gate slid up.

The groaning was loud. Feet of the undead were the first thing Steve saw before the gate finished rising. Steve aimed and fired at the legs of the zombies ahead of him. Rotting blood and flesh matted the ground of the map as their legs shattered from the bullets ripping straight through the legs, making the zombies fall to the ground. Next, target the heads. Before the fallen zombies had time to crawl and grab Steve, the barrel of his gun aimed at there heads, and his ears rang from him firing their heads into a splattered fungal mess. The gates opened and the zombies that were behind the ones he had put down stumbled and fell over them which gave Steve a perfect opportunity to shoot them down, so he did. He aimed at the first head he saw and fired at it.

He had never felt this focused before. It was if his surroundings were slower than usual. His perspective a tunnel vision of directions, all being planned out in his head. he could dart his eyes at his next target and shoot at it without needing to aim properly. just point and shoot, and their heads would have a rather gaping hole in the brain, be ruptured completely into a mess of fragmented bone and brain matter, spilled to the ground.

Steve lept over the bodies he had just taken out as he examined his surroundings. This was without a doubt, level five. The small village. He realized that the bodies that they had killed before were gone. Steve found the lack of decaying bodies odd, but he did not let it linger in his head. That means they did not stay dead. All the more to kill.

Steve rushed his way to the center of the map, at the unkempt firepit that the houses circled along with the church and watchtower. Steve ejected the magazine from the assault rifle to check how much ammunition was left in it. The drum mag was gigantic and heavy. It had to have held over fifty rounds inside. Point being, there were plenty of bullets to still give. He slipped the mage back in and rested the assault rifle to his hip, letting the strap hold it onto his person as he grabbed his Mac's out and waited.