Resident Evil: Rebirth

                                                                     Resident Evil: Rebirth


AN: I do not own Resident Evil and I am not making profit from this work. This story was commissioned by Dale Hunter.

“My name is Alice.” The words sent a very cold chill down Dr. Samuel Isaacs’s spine, and he stopped barking the orders immediately. With fear rising up from the pit of his stomach, he glanced over to the security Officer standing opposite him and gave the man a curt nod before spinning round to face his experiment. “And I remember everything.”

She was smiling. Not a childlike smile, those were filled with joy and applaud. This was the smile of a predator, the same look a lion or a tiger would convey whilst stalking their prey. Only she was no lion or tiger, she was much more dangerous.

She was Alice Abernathy, AKA Project Alice, a security operative formerly employed by the Umbrella Corporation to guard the Raccoon City facility, codenamed ‘The Hive’. Her body had been infected with the T-Virus during the outbreak and Isaacs and his colleague Cain had abducted her as well as the other survivor when they emerged and put them into the Nemesis program. Shortly before his death however, Cain had released them both into the chaos of an overrun Raccoon City. Isaacs had found her burnt body lying in the bed of a waterfall the next day, under the twisted wreckage of Cain’s helicopter.

At first he had feared her dead, but by then the T-Virus had bonded with her cells and had brought her back from Death’s brink in little over a week. Now she was standing before him fully recovered, naked except for a plain white sheet that only just protected her modesty, and much to Isaacs’s displeasure, armed with the metal pen he’d given her just moments ago. Then it had been but a simple tool he’d used to judge her mental receptiveness to his questions, now it was a most lethal weapon.

The ballpoint’s ink soaked tip was poised like a scorpion’s tail, ready to pierce the eye of the foolish young scientist who had dared to linger too close to Alice. Isaacs had already forgotten the fool’s name; he was incidental, a dime a dozen, and didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things, not like himself.

Realising the danger, the good doctor moved to run but his movement seemed to trigger a reaction in Alice as she dropped the pen, only to ram her elbow into the confused scientist’s jaw. The blow knocked him to the floor and he laid their unconscious whilst the previously amnesic test subject lashed out at the nearest target. There was no stopping her now and all chaos broke lose as the remaining scientists who were still standing ran for their lives.

It was almost a relief to Isaacs when the guard he’d previously signalled to, finally came to his senses and charged the rampaging woman. Dressed in the tactical black ballistic suit, the man should have over-powered her with ease but Alice was faster and had swung about before he could finish rounding the equipment. Her fist cracked against his windpipe with a sickening crunch and Isaacs was left to wonder if the guard was dead before or after he hit the floor. However, now there was nothing standing between him and Abernathy’s vengeance and she stepped towards him like a grim Spector of death.

“No! Please think about what you are doing…” He pleaded, desperately trying to buy himself some much needed seconds but Alice was in no mood to hear it and she lunged forward and grabbed him by the neck. Her fingers were cold and inhumanly strong as they closed around his wind pipe, shutting off oxygen to the Chief Scientist’s brain as she whirled around and tossed him head first into the recovery tank. The glass shattered on impact and Dr Isaacs fell to the floor in a bloody heap.


For throwing that twisted witch doctor into the tank he’d previously held her captive in, Alice felt better than she had in years; It was good to give back some of the pain he and Cain had bestowed upon her and her friends. She was wondering how good it would be to finish him when another one of Umbrella’s soldiers appeared. He looked older than the last and had the good sense not to try and rush her, or perhaps he was just too cowardly. The taser gun he had drawn suggested the prior but Alice never knew what to expect when it came to Umbrella.

He fired the darts without warning and a few thousand volts slammed into her system like a pair of fluffy pillows. She felt nothing but the sting of the hooks and the guard obviously didn’t know what to do next as she gave him a look that said ‘Is that all you got?’ He tried to run when she ripped the barbs out but didn’t get far as she hurled the sparking curves of metal right back at him. He fell to the ground, screaming and blubbering before finally going still.

Turning back to the deathly still body of Dr. Isaacs, Alice was about to break his neck when suddenly she heard the distant sound of sirens and realised one of the fleeing doctors must have triggered the alarm. Not wanting to be around when the dozen men with sub-machine guns burst into the lab, she decided it was time to take her leave. Grabbing a white lab coat, she let her grip on her towel covering her go slack while threading her arms through the sleeves and doing up the tie. Yet as she was leaving, she suddenly became aware that she was being watched. ‘A camera…’

Alice hated being watched. It reminded her of being back in the Hive, where every move she made had been watched diligently by the Red Queen and she had been powerless to do anything about it. Now however, things were different.

The feeling only got worse as she left the lab. It crept along her spine like a snake as she emerged out in a chamber that’s ceiling was held up by immense stone pillars, it teased her mind in every way possible until she couldn’t take it anymore. Casting her eyes up at the ceiling, she spotted a security camera looking down at her and couldn’t help smile that dangerous smile again. She could hear the guard who was watching her speaking now. He sounded scared, good; she wanted Umbrella to fear her. He was trying to call for help, mumbling over the words hastily as his fear got the better of him. It was fun to hear but like all predators, Alice quickly got tired of toying with her prey and wanted him to be quite. His call suddenly went dead, the last thing anyone heard of the guard was a scream that was half silenced by his throat filling up with blood.

She met no further resistance, either they had got the message she wasn’t someone to fuck around with or they were setting up a trap. Alice didn’t know which she’d prefer. While a fight with Umbrella’s soldiers was always fun, given that all she’d have to contest against their fire-arms and body armour was a lab coat, it may be weighted ever so slightly in their favour.

Navigating her way through the maze of corridors, she finally found herself in the facility’s lobby and without looking; Alice pushed open the glass door and stepped out into the night air. It was a cold evening; a sharp wind was blowing lightly and the feel of it against her skin sent a shiver down her spine. Or perhaps it had something to do with the dozen or so automatic rifles that were suddenly all pointing towards her.

An entire squad of Umbrella’s soldiers had set up positions around the door and looking in all directions, Alice saw that she was completely surrounded, trapped between a wall and a hard place. Ominous clicks rang through the night as the soldiers chambered their rounds, letting her know that they meant business, should the red laser sights aiming at her heart have left any doubt in her mind.

“Shit” whispered Alice, her eyes jumping from one soldier to the next as she tried to find a weakness in their formation she could exploit. It wouldn’t be easy getting out of this one; the soldiers were packed tighter than sardines and all appeared to have itchy trigger fingers at the ready. One wrong move and she’d be cut down in a hail of gun fire. To put it another way, she was fucked.

A soldier took a step closer; he was the only one not wearing a helmet so Alice guessed he was the squad leader. A sergeant probably, Umbrella always enjoyed throwing away NCOs as they were easy to replace. He probably thought capturing their run away Nemesis Program would be a good way to make that jump up the pay grade, well if he came to close; Alice would make sure that he earned it, providing he survived of course.

Distracted by the approaching officer, Alice almost missed the silently running SUV that pulled up behind the group of men. The Sergeant didn’t however and he turned around just in time to see the doors opening and a trio of Umbrella executives stepping out. Or at least who they thought were executives.

Alice wasn’t fooled however; she knew exactly who these three impostors were and was tempted to smile as Jill Valentine brushed past the NCO without a glance. She may have swapped her tube top and mini-skirt for a Kevlar bodysuit, but her attitude was just as potent. “Thank You Gentlemen but we’ll be taking it from here.”

“But…wait! On whose authority?” The Sergeant asked, scrambling to block her path but was then brushed aside by Carlos Olivera who flashed a phoney I.D his way whilst saying “Classified…Level Six authorisation. So stand down sergeant or be shot.” The NCO wisely shut up from then on and when no one was looking, Alice couldn’t resist giving Carlos a genuine smile.

The laser sights lowered as Jill came up to Alice’s level. Not wanting to give away her cover, the former S.T.A.R.S officer didn’t say a friendly word as she took her by the arm and lead her down the steps to the cruiser. Carlos was a little warmer as he put his jacket over her shoulders to help fight against the cold. LJ was holding the door of the cruiser open for her.

Not willing to risk breaking their cover, the three Raccoon City survivors kept up the guise even when the cruiser’s heavy doors and tinted windows had hidden them from the soldiers’ view. The atmosphere in the vehicle was tense as the risk of being discovered grew by the second yet much to their relief, no one tried to stop them as they pulled away. LJ kept their speed at a steady 15MPH has he drove the group through the compound, all went well until they reached the checkout station.

Stopping at the barrier as a pair of guards came out to greet them, Carlos calmly showed them the ID he’d used to silence the sergeant. Taking it off him after a brisk salute, the gateman examined it for a moment before glancing up at Alice. Something was wrong.
He looked like he was about to question her but the shrill ringing of a phone made him and his partner retreat back into their huts to answer the call.

“Be ready.” Carlos whispered, putting the ID back in his jacket pocket before reaching under the dash board. Following his hand, Alice saw that there was a Heckler & Koch USP-9 taped underneath. “Alright, get ready to floor it LJ.”

Then, from out of nowhere, the barrier lifted and LJ was saved the trouble of putting the SUV through its paces when the guards waved them through. Breathing a sigh of relief, Alice let herself relax back in the seat and watch idly as they finally pulled out of the facility, completely missing the small bundle in the back seat that suddenly came out of hiding.

“Alice!” Angie cried, throwing her arms around the woman’s neck in a tight hug. Surprised by the child’s miraculous appearance, she had to stop herself from reflexively breaking the girl’s neck before returning the uneasy embrace. “Are you all right?”

Alice smiled but before she could answer, a sudden feeling of coldness came over her. It felt something like slipping into a cold bath, only in reverse. Growing light headed as a feeling of numbness ran down her spine, she just had enough time to hear Carlos say “It’s good to have you back.” Before she fell unconscious.


A deep pot-hole jeered the cruiser violently, waking Alice with a start. Surprised by the volatile wake up call, she reached for her gun with the real intention of blowing anyone and everyone away, only the weapon was missing from its holster. The leather holster was missing too, in fact just about all of her clothes were gone.

She could feel something small snuggled next to her, a child. Blinking past the haze of confusion she cautiously looked down and saw that Angela Ashford was sleeping next to her. The sight of the peacefully sleeping child made all the nights livid events come back to her in one great rush and she couldn’t resist fondly stroking the girl’s light chestnut coloured locks, causing her to fidget ever so slightly in the cramped seating arrangements. The kid had lost everything and yet she still slept easier than she could.

“So you’re finally awake.” Said Jill, turning away from the cruiser’s rear-view window to face Alice; “You gave us quite a scare there, but then I guess escaping from Umbrella’s primary facility isn’t as easy as busting out of a city overrun by the infected.” It was a poor attempt at humour, but Alice smiled all the same; it was comforting for her to know that Jill hadn’t changed. “So what did they do to you?”

“You don’t want to know.” Alice said before turning back to look out her window. They were driving through an industrial estate, large, graffiti stained warehouses all in various stages of disrepair lined the street like broken dominos and she could just make out a sign saying ‘You are leaving Detroit’ beneath a flickering street light. “We’re in Detroit?”

“The resistance is in Detroit.” Carlos said before looking back at her. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“The resistance…” Alice asked, unable to hide her confusion as she looked from him to Jill, and then back at Carlos. “What resistance?”

“The Resistance against Umbrella.” Jill said, no longer looking at Alice as instead she kept a watchful eye on the passing surroundings; watching for any sign that they might be heading into an ambush.

‘Against Umbrella…’ The news made Alice a loss for words as she tried to piece together the picture. Back in the hive, Matt had told her that there were those working to stop Umbrella but she had thought they were more like Green-Piece activists than a resistance force. Could there really be a military force devoted to the destruction of Umbrella, or were they just a group of wronged mercenaries and delusional survivors who think they can make a difference.

Carlos was as good as his word when he said they’d be there in just a few minutes, indeed Alice had counted four when they suddenly turned off the main road and ran across a loading bay that was littered with the broken or rusted remnants of heavy equipment before pulling up in front of one of the warehouses. It was ugly and rundown, with not one brick of its exterior untouched by either time or vandalism. The windows had all been steel-shuttered, making it clear the place had been abandoned for some time.

Not put off by its rundown state, LJ parked the Cruiser on the curb in front of the warehouse and killed the still smoothly running engine. Unbuckling their seatbelts, Carlos, Jill and LJ disembarked from the cruiser. Following suit, Alice was about to follow them out when she felt the sleeping Angie begin fidgeting against her and not wanting to leave the girl alone in the SUV, she scooped Angie up in her arms and with a little help from the T-Virus, carried her out into the night air.

Looking distinctly like a mother and daughter, Alice and the sleeping Angie followed the trio. Peering through the gloom, she could just make out a pair of painted black double doors. There was a rusty padlock and chain dangling from the handles but Jill ignored it, instead lifting up a cover that resembled the brick work to reveal a key-pad. She punched in the code without looking back, causing a rusty grinding to echo out from within the walls as the doors were suddenly lifted up to reveal the warehouse’s  interior.
“Welcome to the resistance’s headquarters.”

In a state of shock, Alice felt her eyes widening as she looked inside the dilapidated building. Despite the run down state of its exterior, the interior was teeming with life, a high-tech mecca full of state of the art technology and weapons cases. Ripped of all the usual distractions you’d expect to find in a warehouse such as this, it appeared to be an pompously large and glancing up, she saw that layers of walkways, balconies and offices rimmed the higher walls, suggesting that there might be even more levels to this chamber. On the roof, she could see that an old skylight had been left uncovered, allowing a view of the star littered night sky to any who wished to crane their heads.

Unable to keep the shock from her face, Alice looked on with a wide eyed expression on her face; it most certainly wasn’t what she was expecting. Powerful computer stations and surveillance systems had been set up all over the headquarters and sections of every wall were dominated by digital photographs and video captures of Umbrella associates.

At the group’s arrival, curious eyes suddenly turned in their direction and whispered murmurings broke out amongst the populace like wildfire as flanked by Jill, Carlos and LJ, Alice and the sleeping Angie strode into the mobile command centre. Subconsciously, she counted between thirty and forty people, all of whom she noted were carrying side arms or were well within reach of a firearm. However before she could investigate further, the wall on the warehouse’s opposing side suddenly burst open to reveal a concealed door and three figures emerged from it.

A man was in the lead, he looked to be around forty but the short cut brown hair and broad shoulder line made it hard for her to be exact. Dressed in a green shirt and red leather body warmer with black trousers and boots, he would have looked right at home in a trailer park, but the shoulder holstered 44. Magnum gave him an air of danger. This, Alice decided, was not a man to fuck around with or take lightly.

The same couldn’t be said for his companions. On his left was a girl who looked barely into her twenties, she had cropped brown hair and a kind, rounded face that made any façade of toughness her worn leather jacket and baggy tan jeans may try to bestow, totally redundant. On his right was a man who would have looked far more at home in an office and a tailored suit. His comb over brown hair was stained by streaks of grey and he had a straightened walk that testified to years in an administrative position.

“Valentine! It’s about time you showed up.” The leader said, his heavy jaw twisting in a grin that didn’t suit him as he turned toward Alice. “So is this the famous Alice Abernathy I’ve heard so much about?”

“You bet your sweet ass it is.” Jill answered, smiling a cat like smile as she gestured between Alice and the three. “Alice, these are the leaders of the resistance and chairmen of the ‘I hate Umbrella’ fan club. Barry Burton…Rebecca Chambers…and George Hamilton.”

“Charmed, now do you have a cigarette? I could really do with a smoke.”

Grinning, Carlos pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket and passed one of the sticks to Alice and then lighting it for her a moment later. The end burning a bright gold as she inhaled the toxins, enjoying the feel of its venom causing through her system and feeding her a relief she hadn’t enjoyed in weeks.

“Mmmmm…Thanks.” She said to Carlos, exhaling a puff of smoke before clasping the fag tightly in the corner of her mouth as she turned her attention back to Burton. “So why do you hate Umbrella?” She was being direct, possibly boarding on rude, but the man only grinned as if it was a refreshing change.

“We ran afoul of Umbrella in the Arkley Mountains, back when we were part of S.T.A.R.S. We’d discovered Umbrella was preforming illegal viral and biological experiments and our teams were sent in to investigate the legality of the claims.”  His voice was as gruff as his stubble ridden chin could suggest but Alice could sense

“I, my partner, Barry and Rebecca were the only ones to make it out of that hell hole alive!” Interrupted Jill, her voice betraying the anger she felt at the memory as she lit up her own cigarette. The outburst caused Angie to squirm slightly and seeing it, Jill managed to calm down enough to lower her voice. “Of course, our findings were dismissed. Our commander claimed we had no proof and then promptly shit canned us to keep us from talking. I swear that fucker was on Umbrella’s payroll.” A dry chuckle reverberated around the small circle at the comment and even LJ and Carlos, who had seen the depths of Umbrella’s corruption first hand, could enjoy the humour.

“Ironically the bastard probably saved our lives.” Burton added in, “If we hadn’t been suspended than we’d of been in the City when the shit hit the fan.”

“Anyway, after we escaped Raccoon I brought LJ and Carlos here. When we learnt you had survived, Barry and Rebecca helped us plan a way to get you out.”

Hearing her name mentioned, Rebecca took a step forward. She looked nervous, perhaps not so use to taking the centre stage as Burton. “While on suspension, we were able to track down a number of people who had had connections to Umbrella. They gave us all we’d need to know in order to breach their security.” She was gaining confidence now and the words seemed to be coming easier to her. “Hi I’m Rebecca and if you need anything, just let me know.”

“Err-thanks.” Alice said, not entirely sure of just what to make of the proclamation. “Well I need a gun…and perhaps some new clothes.”

“I’ll take her.” Carlos cut in, causing Rebecca to look almost deflated until he added “Rebecca, can you take Angie to her bed, she’s had a long night.” It was as if the mercenary had given her some great task and she took the sleeping child from Alice with a wide smile. For a moment, Alice wanted to protest but Carlos took her aside before she had the opportunity and together they made their way command centre. However her ears were still listening to the remainder of the conversation.

“Barry, where is Chris? There is something I have to tell him.” Jill explained, her voice taking on a different tone now that she thought Alice was out of earshot. It sounded like desperation, or perhaps just urgency. She couldn’t quite tell.

“Chris left for LA hours ago Jill, he went to go and find his little sister. But we have bigger problems…” The rest of their conversation was lost in the air as Alice and Carlos passed through the concealed door’s threshold.


After the eternal coldness of Umbrella’s regeneration tank and the chilling gale that had raged through the night, the scolding hot water that pelted her body in great waves had been just what the doctor ordered. It turned her milky skin pink as the warmth seeped through her in ways shed forgotten were possible. It had been so long since she last showered; she’d forgotten how good one could feel.

Sadly the running waters couldn’t wipe away her memories like they could her pain and she was forced to suffer in silence as the faces of every one who had died passed before her mind’s eye.

‘It’s all because of Umbrella.’ She thought venomously, the shower doing nothing to sooth her temper even after it had washed the soap and dirt from her. ‘They must be made to pain for what they have done.’

Reluctantly, she turned the shower off when she felt the water temperature slowly start to drop. The cold began to return to her as she pulled the soaked curtain back, but Alice thought nothing of it as she left the last of the water trickle down her naked body. Coldness was something she was accustomed to.

Towelling herself down as she stepped from the shower stall, she walked across the dingy bathroom and came to stand before the rusty sink. The bathroom, if one could call it that, was clouded by thick layers of steam, its metal appliances rusty and littered by flecks of mould and something which looked suspiciously like dried blood.  There was a small square mirror hanging on the wall over the sink, its surface smeared by condensation and dirt. A sense of Déjà vu came over her when she wiped her hand over the reflective surface but in all the excitement of the last few weeks, she couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly when she’d lived this moment before.

Her reflection stared back at her; outwardly she looked just the same as she always had. There were the same honey golden locks and fierce blue irises, the same pouting red lips and small feminine chin, absolutely identical to the face she had seen every past day of her life. But on the inside, she knew she was as far from the norm as it was possible to get.

Unable to stop shivering as the steam that floated around the unventilated room began to settle on her skin, Alice soon abandoned the mirror and pushed open the door to her new chambers. It was small and very Spartan like in relation to the great mansion she had lived in barely a month ago. It had minimal furnishings and the apex of those was a single cot with a few blankets and a pillow for comfort. Her clothes had already been lain out for her with a Para Ordnance Nite Tac pistol and its leather holster resting beside them. The garments were simple, a dark green V-neck top with short sleeves and a pair of dark blue jeans that looked a little tight, but she was thankful for anything that might be better than that thin lab coat.

She was just slipping her feet into a pair of Cowgirl boots when suddenly a knock reverberated against the room’s door. The person on the other side didn’t wait for her response before opening and Alice turned her head just in time to see Carlos standing in the threshold.

“How are you holding up?” He asked, shutting the door behind before walking up to her and holding out another cigarette. As she accepted, Alice couldn’t help but note the way his fingers were shaking around the butt. 

“I’ve been worse.” She said as he lit the tip, being careful not to inhale too quickly as she took the first puff. “So why does everybody here seem to know my name?”

“Because…Because you’re a hero to them Alice.” He said, stammering a little as the question caught him by surprise. “You’ve done things many here could only dream of doing. You’ve quite literally given Umbrella the biggest fuck you they can imagine and live to tell about it. In their book, you’re a hero.”

‘Hero huh…’ She thought, smirking around the fag as the notion appealed to her in no small way. She’d always wanted to be a hero, it had been part of the reason she made contact with Lisa Broward, to be a hero and make a difference in peoples’ lives.  She’d thought that dream had died with Lisa in the Hive, just another corpse in that facility, only one she thought even the T-virus could never resurrect.  It had seemed so impossible back then, in all the chaos and death of those few bleak days, but now she dared to let herself hope, hope that just maybe with the help of these right-minded mercenaries she could do what no one had done before her.

“Do you remember what they were doing to you?” Carlos suddenly asked, making Alice blink in surprise at such an out of the air question. She hadn’t thought much on what might have happened to her whilst she’d been unconscious in the Umbrella lab; it went without question that they would have run tests but evidence that they’d had a chance to experiment was lacking.

“I haven’t thought about it.” She said, suddenly feeling a hot flush coursing through her as she looked up at Carlos. Her eyes slowly feasting on his rugged looks and fierce brown eyes, he wasn’t exactly handsome in the conventional term, but he was far from hideous and Alice had been without the feel of a man’s touch for longer than she cared to remember. With one last drag, she flicked the fag away into a nearby bin before taking a tentative step towards Carlos, her hand reaching out to run lightly over his shirt covered chest. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

Taken aback by her sudden forwardness, the former mercenary stood toe-to-toe with the beauty. Almost a foot taller than Alice and as he looked down, he was spoiled with a wonderful view of her pale sapphire eyes. She was enigmatic and her provocative gaze seemed to be staring into his very soul, her exquisitely crafted face leaning ever so slightly forward. He knew he should stop this and he opened his mouth to object; only her lips found his in the last instant and his words died.

Someday in the long distant future, Alice may come to regret her actions, but here and now she wanted him like she had wanted no other. She shivered with need as his hands encircled her slim waist, pulling her against his hard body as their tongues met for the first time in a hungry dance of desires. Passion burned through her veins like liquid fire and her heightened senses were flooded with his intoxicating taste as she lost herself in the moment.

Hungry for more, she growled low in her throat and suddenly pushed Carlos against the metal door, her fingers dipping beneath the silken fabric of his shirt and running wildly over the sinewy muscle of his chiselled chest.   In her mind, she was mapping the place of his every scar and battle wound while enjoying the feel of his hot skin trembling under her touch as her fingers racked down his torso. Carlos hissed as her nail scrapped over his nipple and Alice couldn’t help grinning as she broke the kiss and leant over to slowly lick the sensitive area behind his ear…

Knock-Knock! The echoing sound of someone rapping their knuckles against the door broke the two apart faster than a freezing bucket of water. Short of breath, they stepped away from each other and hurriedly tried to compose themselves in case whoever was at the door decided to come in.  “Yo Alice, Carlos, you in there?” asked A gruff, accented voice through the door and the couple breathed sigh of relief as they realised it was just LJ. “Common we gotta go.”

With a last look in the others direction; they opened the door to the former pimp. For a moment he looked like he might say something but then he discarded whatever it was as a more pressing issue seemed to be on his mind. “Something’s going on upstairs.” Confused but recognising the desperation in the man’s voice, the pair didn’t waste time asking questions and hurried out the door with LJ making up the rear.

Beyond the command central, the warehouse’s interior was a labyrinth of passages, stairways and small rooms and Alice counted more than a dozen different workshops, labs and firing ranges as she and the men worked their way back to the headquarter’s hub.

Rounding corner after corner, they finally burst through the concealed doors to find a large crowd had gathered around the chamber’s centre in a large circle.

Pushing her way through the tightly pack crowd of onlookers, Alice quickly lost sight of both Carlos and LJ. They had disappeared like rain in the ocean, forcing her to navigate the treacherous depths of the mob alone. All around, people were shoving and jostling like trapped horses and she was forced to use a touch of her T-Virus strength to get through them. Up ahead she could just make out the shapes of two figures having what looked like a heated argument, but whom and why eluded her.

Lost in a sea of faces, barely able to keep her head above the suffocating swells, she desperately sought a safety line; her eyes scouring the masses until she found a profile she recognised. George Hamilton was standing nearby, somehow holding firm against the volatile mass’s tug and pull. Fixing her gaze on the man as she laboured to push and shove her way to him, Alice couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief to be momentarily out of the crowd.

“George…” Alice said, almost out breath from the exhausting ordeal. “What’s happening?”
Having not noticed the woman’s approach, he was caught off guard by her sudden appearance and his head shot round so fast it looked in risk of popping off his shoulders. He brushed it off quickly however, and after running his eyes other her once, he turned back to whatever was at the heart of this outbreak. “Jill and Barry are debating what we should do next.” He said in almost nonchalant manner, as if all this was a regular occurrence.

‘Debating?’ Alice thought before looking around at the still bustling onlookers. ‘More like brawling if these bastards are anything to go by.’

Alice continued to watch the spectacle, unable to get to the source of the problem she decided she’d wait until the mob grew tired of the spectacle. She surmised it wouldn’t take long, amusements that weren’t violent tended to lose their appeal quickly. It was as she was standing there that suddenly she noticed something unusual, she could hear a low hissing.

The sound seemed to be coming from everywhere, echoes off the walls made it impossible to pinpoint and the crowd wasn’t helping matters with its shouting. Focusing all her energies on rooting out the noise, Alice cast her eyes around the hub in a desperate search. Her instincts told her something was wrong, that the noise didn’t belong…all she had to do was find it.

It was only be chance that she happened to glance upwards and see the shadows that streaked across the warehouse’s roof. Following the shades, her eyes widened in horror as she saw the men in ballistic suits standing over the skylight and going completely unnoticed by the crowd. Realisation sinking in, she swung around and looked at the nearest steel-shuttered window. It was warping and Alice was sure she could see a glow from beneath the brick work. A blowtorch!

Umbrella had found them. The fact hit her like a wall of steel and she was about to shout out a warning when she saw something that made her heart stop. Little Angie was awake and in the crowd. There was an older girl holding her hand; she looked to be in her mid-teens and had dirt blond hair and was wearing a pink vest and a knee length skirt.  They were fighting their way through the crowd but when Angie saw Alice and the ten year old suddenly broke away and began running towards her.

“No Angie, stay there!” Alice cried, but she was too late as already the shutters were pealing back and the Umbrella troops behind were hurling small cylinders inside the warehouse. One rolled across the floor and stopped at her feet.

The flash bang grenades exploded with a pop that filled the room with blinding white light and unable to close her eyes fast enough, she was hit by the full force of the explosion. She might have been screaming but she couldn’t hear it over the ringing in her ears as the explosion made her stumble back. Blind and deaf, she had just enough sense remaining to drop to her knees, not wishing to present the attackers with an easy target.

She wasn’t sure how long she knelt there on the cold stone before her hearing returned, it felt like hours but was most likely only a couple of minutes as the screams of the scared and injured still scorched the night with their song. She could hear blasts of gunfire beneath the cries and made to reach for her pistol as her vision returned, first in entangled shapes, and then distorted blurs. Colour flooded back to her so that she could make out black clad figures standing outside every window, the muzzles of their automatic rifles flashing as they fired a continuous stream of hot lead into the scattering Resistance staff.

Using what little sight she had to aim her gun at the soldiers nearest her, Alice began firing relentlessly at the Umbrella Corporation’s mercenaries. Most of her bullets exploded harmlessly on brickwork but at least two hit home as a pair of the ballistic garbed guns-for-hire dropped out of sight.

The shock of suddenly hearing the ominous click of an empty chamber jolted the woman back to the world and jamming the empty gun back into its holster, she began to crawl away. Blessedly the soldiers hadn’t noticed her firing in all the confusion and her way was clear for the moment, or at least it was until she spotted the familiar corpse lying next to her. It was George Hamilton, his body riddled with the still smoking bullet holes and the look of shock plainly visible on his face from where he had been caught in the fire.
A child’s scream ripped through the night and remembering Angie, Alice immediately turned her head towards the source, her ocean blue orbs opening wide as she saw the diabolical work. Angie was lying still and deathly pale upon the ground, a shallow pool of blood slowly enveloping both her and the other screaming girl.

With little regard for the danger, Alice scrambled to her feet and ran to the children. Bullets flyed all around her a rain of lead but the soldiers’ aim was no match for her speed and every round missed its mark. Ignoring the girl in the pink vest as she approached, all feeling suddenly left her legs and she fell to her knees before the lifeless form of Angela Ashford. Looking down through tear glazed eyes at the girl’s dead features, Alice became unable to contain her grief and threw back her head and released an agonised cry that echoed around the warehouse and drew the attention of just about every umbrella soldier within a miles radius.

Dozens of sights turned on her in an instant, but Alice no longer cared. Tears were gushing from her eyes and all her hopes and expectations began to crumble around her as the open eyed body of Angie stared past her to a place that might at last grant her the peace life had long denied. All around her, the bloody bodies of slain resistance fighters lay broken and twisted on the cold floor and it was all her fault. This massacre was all because of her, just like Matt and Rain, the Hive and Raccoon City, they had all been her fault. So why do the people she cares about always have to die?

Because she was unarmed, the Umbrella soldiers shouted a warning, but Alice couldn’t hear them. She didn’t want to hear them. With Angie’s death, her life had lost all meaning and now she just wanted it all to end. What was the point in living if everyone close to her always died? Whatever awaited her beyond the veil of death; it had to be better than living with this pain.

With tears still rolling down her checks, she looked up and watched the mercenaries prime their rifles. ‘At last…’ was all she thought before closing her eyes and waiting for the final act.

Pop, pop,pop, pop, pop… She heard the gun shots ring out, but never felt them rip her body to shreds. Was she already dead? Had the bullets already done their work and left her in a huddle on the floor? But then if this was death, why could she still feel the knot in her heart, was she condemned to feel like this for all eternity as punishment for some of her less noble deeds!

A hand grabbed her shoulder firmly, jeering Alice back to life. Puzzled by the fact she was still alive, she opened her eyes and saw a hail of bullets exploding into the Umbrella soldiers. Realising someone was behind her, she spun around to find Jill Valentine, still in her black Umbrella bodysuit, standing over her and emptying an AK-47 into the corporation’s mercenaries. Behind her, the girl in the pink vest was watching on wide-eyed while Carlos provided cover with the help of an UZI. In the distance, she could just make out LJ and Barry Burton rushing the fleeing survivors out another concealed exit and the knowledge that not all the resistance had died gave her some comfort.

“Alice we have to go!” Jill cried, practically dragging the lame woman to her feet as the remaining Umbrella troops ducked for cover. Without looking, she shoved a loaded MP5K into her hands before turning to the girl. “Come on Dahlia, it’s time for us to go sweetie.”

Dahlia looked once at Jill and then at Angie’s blood covered body. It was clear she didn’t want to leave her friend but she didn’t have much of a choice. Umbrella would kill everyone they could this night; even a child like her would not be spared their wrath.

Watching as the girl nodded her head; a new feeling came over Alice. She was moved by this child’s courage and couldn’t help but wonder if Angie was her first contact with death, or perhaps the hundredth. The loss of a closely held friend could never be easy for one so young to bear, yet this girl had the strength to carry on and see past her own pain. For Alice’s power and strength, this girl was stronger than her in just about every respect.

The realisation was as bitter as a lemon and left a strong feeling of loathing brewing inside her breast, but it also gave her the strength to go on. Recognising the weight of the loaded sub-machine gun, she looked to Jill but before she could convey her thanks, a deadly shower of shattered glass suddenly rained down around them. Acting fast, Alice grabbed Dahlia and dived to the side. Jill did the same, only to the opposite side of the falling glass. Thick coils of braded black ropes fell through the broken sky light, followed closely by more black clad figures who abseiled down the ropes.

Using her own body to shield the girl from the falling glass, Alice gave Dahlia a small smile to say she’d be fine. “Are you OK?”

“Yea…” she said, nodding her head frantically as she looked at Alice with wide eyes.

“Good, now…RUN” The woman yelled before rolling to the side so that she was facing the coming danger. Her MP5K already raised, she took aim and fired. The mercenaries moved like blurs as they slid down the ropes but it was nothing her eyes couldn’t pick out and she fired off the sub-machine gun in long bursts, cutting their bodies to gore dripping confetti with the armour-piercing rounds.

Obeying the mysterious woman, Dahlia got to her feet and ran for her life. Jumping over bodies and between computers, she could see Carlos firing his Uzi at some invisible target to her left so she veered to the right, not wanting to be caught in the field of fire. However, one of the surviving Umbrella soldiers at the window spotted her and trained his gun on her path, only to be shot through the head as Jill rolled over and emptied the last of her AK-47’s mag into him. Free and clear, the girl ran past Olivera to join Barry and LJ who, now with the last of the survivors away, dived inside and pulled the concealed door closed.

“Let’s Go!” Jill cried, discarding the empty riffle before drawing her 9mm Biretta from its holster. Hearing the voice, Alice stopped firing and turned to Valentine in time to watch a sniper’s round suddenly explode through the woman’s side. Surprised by the wound, Jill never screamed. In a state of shock, her hand automatically moved to cover the hole as a wash of hot blood gushed forth, carrying with it the black gore that was the remnants of her insides. Blood touched Jill’s lips and she looked up at Carlos, and then Alice before crumpling to the ground in a still heap.

The sight couldn’t have hit Alice harder if she had been the one shot, transfixed by the awful tableau she dropped the smoking MP5K. So another one of her friends was dead and cold…

“Alice!” Carlos’s shout mingled with the cold metallic click of a priming rifle and both sounds caused the woman to look up and see an Umbrella soldier dangling from one of the ropes not a 20cm from her and pointing a FAMAS right between her eyes.

“Don’t move.” He ordered, his voice distorted by the black breathing apparatus that his face from view. Alice didn’t even blink, without a trace of fear she knocked the automatic aside and then struck with a lightning fast blow to the throat, breaking his neck like a twig. Feeling in no way like a grave robber, she took the weapon from the corpse and then without a look back, she ran to Carlos.

“What kept you?” He asked before they both took off through the doors. Still trying to recover from the massacre, no Umbrella troops made to stop them as they dashed through the maze of halls. Alice never asked where they were going, instead trusting in Olivera’s skills to get them clear of this place of death.


“Fuck…” Jill gasped, blinking past the blackness as a fire crept through her veins from the gapping injury. This was far from the first time she’d been shot, hell S.T.A.R.S members collected scars like children collect stamps, but this was defiantly the first time she’d been hit by such a large calibre. The wound it left was immense and she could practically feel her life slipping away in the crimson tide which bled out of her.

In the back of her mind, she knew she only had a few minutes of life left. She’d seen battle wounds like hers before and death had almost always been the result, it would be best if she just relaxed and let it come to her in the depths of a dream. Only Jill Valentine wasn’t the type to just die in her sleep, she intended to fight until the very end; even if the fight was impossible to win.

Dimly, she was aware of more Umbrella soldiers entering the warehouse, some sliding down the cables while others climbed through the windows and set up a perimeter. They were keeping their distance however, and the fact that they were wary of her even when she was obviously dying made Jill’s blue lips turn up in a weak smile. She quickly lost count of how many of the Corporation’s mercenaries entered the former safe-house, her vision grow so weak that she couldn’t so much as tell where one began and another ended until one finally stepped forward.

Like a grim Spector, the soldier slowly walked forward until he was standing over her dying form. Absentmindedly, Jill couldn’t help but wonder how this bastard hadn’t been killed off long ago. Although dressed in the black gear, he was larger and much stockier than his counterparts, practically massive by the average man’s standards he’d have stuck out like a sore thumb in a fire fight.

“So this is Jill Valentine, at last we meet.” Said a distorted voice before the soldier reached up and pulled the breathing apprentice from his face to reveal a sight that made Jill gasp in horror. “I am Albert Wesker, chairman of the Umbrella Corporation, at your service.”

Jill felt a sickness rising in her gut that had nothing to do with the bullet hole as she looked up at the man, taking in his bone white skin and bleached blonde hair with a feeling of disgust. A pair of dark lensed sunglasses hid his eyes but she could already feel the coldness of his stare on her skin, touching her with all the warmth of a sheet of ice. “Wesker, I thought you were dead…” She gasped weakly, trying to ignore the blood on her breath as she pushed herself up.

She’d hoped that her words might encore some sort of reaction from the man, but to her disgust he only grinned at her. “The reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated.” Dr Isaacs walked through the wall of soldiers, the cuts on his face still red from where the glass had cut him just hours earlier but his smile was no less confident as he presented a large titanium carrying case to the man. “But that is something you and I shall now share, because you see Miss Valentine, I have decided that you shall be the first subject of a very special project.” With that, the Dr opened up the case and revealed something that made the dying woman’s eyes grow wide with horror.


Being as quiet as mice, Alice and Carlos hustled through the labyrinth of shipping containers and broken machinery. Moving as fast as he could manage, they were careful to keep out of sight of the sweeping patrols that were combing the estate. It wasn’t easy, their way was full of minor obstacles that they had to either cross or navigate round and the smooth walls of steel offered them little cover. If they were caught here, they’d have little chance of making it out unscathed. With that thought in mind, Alice made sure to keep a ready finger on the trigger of her stolen FAMAS rifle as she watched the winding path ahead of them with a keen eye.

“The rendezvous point is on the other side of this junk yard.” Carlos said before slamming a fresh magazine into his Uzi. From every corner they could hear distant gunshots ringing out as some of the surviving resistance members engaged in desperate fire fights with Umbrella Troops and it was clear he wanted to go and help, but every time they got near the night suddenly fell silent and there was no need to wonder about who had won as Umbrella very kindly left the bullet ridden bodies where they fell. “If we keep heading east and try to avoid the patrols…” A chilling scream suddenly rang out from further down their path before being silenced in a hail of gunfire “Or maybe a little longer.”

Holding their breath, Carlos and Alice shouldered their weapons and cautiously Inched forwards. The way ahead was hidden by a sharp bend but Alice could smell the aroma of blood and gun powder on the air and she could hear men whispering orders. It was impossible to tell how many blocked their path from where they were however, so she signalled Carlos to stay where he was with a quick hand signal before taking a step forward. Flattening herself against the wall of containers, she took in a nerve steadying breath before quickly peering round and then retracting her head before anyone had a chance to see her. Things defiantly did not look good. Not ten steps away was a large expense of open land that was practically teaming with Umbrella soldiers.

“Is there another way round?” She asked Carlos as he came up behind her.

“Not unless we go back to the warehouse.” He said with no trace of humour as he shook his head. “Can we fight a way through?” Alice didn’t want to answer.  There had to be at least twenty of ballistic clad soldiers before, even together there was small chance they’d be able to kill them all and even if they did, the rest of the Umbrella strike team would be alerted by the noise and then they’d be swamped by the fuckers.
Hoping to find another solution, she glanced round just in time to see an officer walk through the troops and start barking orders. When he was done, the mercenaries suddenly began to disperse.

“They’re leaving,” she said excitedly, looking back at her companion with a smile on her lips.

“That’s great, so can we get out of here please?”

Realising they weren’t out of the woods just yet; she turned back to the space and watched the soldiers leave. This would need to be timed just right… “Let’s go.”

As quiet as the not so dead, they ran from the safety of the shadowed bend, across the open space to the avenue opposite them. At any moment they expected to hear the call of alarm or the short of a rifle so the pair didn’t stop to see if they’d been spotted before taking off into the darkness. They ran flat out, not resting or speaking until they caught sight of vehicles in the distance.

“Just a bit further…” gasped Carlos, his voice now carrying an air of urgency. He was tired from trying to keep up with the seemingly inexhaustible woman and desperately wanted to stop for a moment to catch his breath but realising just how close they were to getting away from the slaughter, he pushed himself a little harder. There’d be plenty of time to rest later.

Alice suddenly stopped, her eyes growing wide as she looked up ahead to where the safety waited for them. She so badly wanted to go there, to leave this place and enjoy the comfort of other people, but in her mind she had been running over everything that had happened and she knew she just couldn’t. It was just too dangerous for them to take her.

“What is?” Carlos asked breathlessly, confused by her sudden stop now that they were so close. “Alice what’s wrong?”

“I…I can’t go with you.” She said, taking a voluntary step back as she shook her head in dismissal. “I’m like a plague, everyone who’s close to me dies, and I won’t risk losing you too.” And then before he could stop her, Alice was gone into the night like a ghost.

                                                                             Chapter One

                                                                           Assault on Tokyo

The target was moving slowly, the decomposing limbs hindering its motions as it hobbled between the skeletal ruins of cars in search of something only its death rotten brain could understand.  Unable to see in the low light, it often stumbled blindly into the car it was trying to go around and didn’t notice the deafening shot which rang out less than half a mile away. Understanding nothing, it turned its head at the sound of a window breaking but any thoughts it may have had were silenced quickly when the Sharpshooter’s high calibre round hit its head, ripping the top half of its skull away and splattering the car in a spray of black gore.

Watching the skeletal body crumple to the floor, Minase Kimokora couldn’t help but smile, “Biohazard Terminated.”

“So I saw, nice shooting.” said Toshi, his voice crackling in the ear piece as he gave the other sniper’s kill confirmation. It made Minase grin, Toshi was always a sore loser and he couldn’t resist twisting his rifle to the side to watch his partner’s distress.  The night scope bathed the area in a fluorescent green yet to his dismay, the man wasn’t about to indulge him. Instead he gave a brisk thumb up. ‘Cheeky bastard.’

“That’s my lead three to one.” He said, unable to resist zooming in slightly to watch the smile vanish from the man’s face. They’d played this game often; it was one of the few perks of being on night watch and the fact the loser had to buy the winner a glass of Saki made it all the sweater. Nothing was better than a glass of warm Saki after a cold night watch.

“Yea well the night is young, and there are plenty more fish in the sea.” Toshi remarked before swivelling his gun around in search for more infected. His words were designed to bolster his confidence but they’d both played this game enough to know that it was hard to recover from being two kills down. “Hey I got one in the fish market, how about double or quits on this kill?”

Smirking, Minase angled his gun on the remnants of what had once been one of the busiest fish markets in the city. Now however, only ghosts and the infected remained. The stalls which had once been filled with fresh and salted fish were nothing more than piles of rotten and broken timber and everywhere he looked was corpses. It wasn’t hard for him to find Toshi’s target. The creature was slumped over the first corpse Minase had shot that night and he could see that it was too busy feasting on the infected flesh to notice it was being targeted by the Umbrella snipers.

Watching the Biohazard cannibalising the remains filled Minase with an anger only their foul kind could stir within him. He hated the infected with a raw passion, he had only been a raw recruit in the Umbrella military when the outbreak hit Tokyo but that had been enough to earn his family a home inside the underground facility, only the infected had beaten him to his house. He couldn’t have wife, she had already been devoured, her lifeless body lying sprawled across the entrance hall as their children’s screams tore through the walls. He’d run to his daughters’ room to find a crazed woman ripping at their throats and they’d died in his arms; now he saw their faces in every one he killed.

Lining up the sights of his rifle, he took care to correct for wind resistance as he rested his finger on the trigger. In his mind he pictured the look of horror that had stained his daughters’ faces as they were being eaten alive as he began to squeeze the metal. Toshi’s high pitched cry bellowed through the ear piece at a deafening volume, its impossibly high pitch making Minase throw back his head and grunt in displeasure as he jerked the communicator out of his ear.

“Toshi?” he asked, his ears ringing loudly as he grabbed the gun and swung around to point it at his partner’s nest. However the Barrett M82 was too large a riffle to move quickly in such cramped conditions and by the time he’d set it up, whatever had happened was already over. “Toshi, are you all right? Report! What’s happening?” The com stayed dead.

Zooming in on the sniper’s nest, Minase was dismayed to find it empty with only the long barrelled riffle to account for Toshi’s presence ever being there. ‘Damn it! Where is he?’ His heart was racing, the thunderous drumming bellowing in his ears and almost deafening him to a low rustle of movement.

Looking up from the night scope, Minase turned his head over his shoulder towards the sound. There was nothing there, yet just as he was about to turn back to his search for Toshi, he heard the whisper of movement on his other side. With honed sniper reflexes he dropped the heavy Barrett and drew his side-arm before swinging about in a single fluid motion, yet again he found nothing. The nest was deserted, however this time Minase wasn’t going to be so easily dissuaded and as he starred down the barrel of his M9, he caught a flicker of movement in the gloom.


No one answered, so with his finger hanging over the Beretta’s trigger, he began creeping forward. Something wasn’t right, it was suddenly so quiet and Minase could practically feel something watching him as he moved across the nest. He should have felt safe stationed, the better part of a mile up, on the roof of a building which could only be accessed from even deeper underground, within the bowls of an impenetrable fortress, yet he felt anything but. There was something up here with him, he was sure of it.

There was a blind turn before him where the building ended, whatever it was would be beyond it. Taking in rasping breaths, he stilled himself for whatever it might be before wheeling around the corner…to find it bare and empty.

His brow wrinkling in confusion, Minase waited, his eyes scanning the darkness and depths of every shadow for any flicker of movement as his heart thundered. Only when he was convinced that he must have been seeing things did he turn back to his rifle, and come face to face with the last thing he could have ever imagined.

A woman was standing toe-to-toe with him, she was Caucasian with lustreless auburn hair which had been oiled back and tied into a tight bun yet her eyes were a brilliant shade of sapphire and had intensity to them the likes of which he had never seen before. Dressed in a black latex body suit, she reminded him of the Ninjas of ancient Japan and he struggled to make sense of this unusual turn in events until a searing pain suddenly ripped across his stomach.

The sensation burned as if a fire had been set in his flesh and he stumbled back as one hand dropped to the wound. His ballistic armour was torn and as he reached beneath it the temperature began to rise. His skin was wet and he could feel a large gash where his belly button had once been, ropes of rubbery intestine were slipping from his gut and he realised with a start that he had been disembowelled like a fish. Her hand moved and he was horrified to see that she was holding a very sharp sword, the single edged blade glittering black in the low light, glittering with his blood.

Feeling his skin  go whiter than snow, Minase made to lift his side-arm but the pistol suddenly felt heavier than a block of stone and his arm hung uselessly at his side as he fell to his knees. Without uttering a word, the woman suddenly brought her weapon down in an arc that sent a streak of blood across the wall as the sniper’s head bounced across the floor.


“God Albert…you’re amazing…oh so rough…fuck me!” Cried Excella Gionne, her flawless naked body glowing with a light sheen of sweat as shock waves of pleasure crashed through body. Behind her, Albert Wesker was furiously slamming into her, driving his erect shaft into her again and again like a primal beast. One impossibly hard thrust was all it took to fill her tunnel up completely and it was clear he didn’t care whether or not she could handle his thick length as he fucked her in a rage of infernal lust, which only propelled Excella towards her orgasm faster.

Wesker gave no indication of hearing her demand as with a chorus of guttural growls, he drove his pulsing shaft inside the alabaster skinned goddess. Bent over his desk, she could do nought but moan as he held onto her slender waist and thrust into her with a bruising intensity, his muscular thighs slapping against her shapely round buttocks as he almost drove her into the oaken furniture.

She was tight around him, her quivering walls convulsed with ecstasy every time he thrust into her depths and the sensation of him filling her so completely pitched her into a sea divine pleasure. It was such an incredible feeling that Excella knew she couldn’t stand it much longer. Already her building climax was coiling around her abdomen like a fiery serpent that drove all conscious thought from her as a thousand delightful tremors ran along her nerves.

“Oh my god! Fuck me Albert…Fuck me hard!” She cried, growing more and more lost in the experience until suddenly she felt the bulbous head of Wesker’s cock touch a certain spot deep inside of her. Gasping, she threw back her head and wailed a sweet melody of pleasure that echoed and bounced off the walls of Wesker’s office in one long note. The exquisite heat and tightness of her convulsing sheath tore an involuntary growl from his throat and she couldn’t help taking advantage of his sudden laps in concentration by thrusting back against him, rocking and grinding her backside into his pelvis.

The wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh filled the office as his hips slapped against her beautifully rounded cheeks, driving her further into the desk so that her fully rounded breasts rubbing over the hard wood. The sensation of her sensitive nipples dragging over the oak stung but Excella didn’t care, all she wanted at that moment was to feel the man she loved spill his seed inside of her.

“Oh god! Your cock feels so good inside me Albert…I think I’m going to cum…oh yes baby…I’m going to cum!” She cried, violently tossing her head from side-to-side as her entire body was thrown into a state of perpetual climax. Shaking beneath the delicious onslaught of pleasure that suddenly washed over her, she fell from the great height of built up pressure and sunk into an ocean of rapturous sensations which were unlike any she had ever experienced before. “Ohhh my god I’m cumming…I’m cumming…I’m cumming!”

A guttural groan was ripped from Wesker as her velvety soft walls convulsed around him, the honey of her release gushing around his rigid flesh in a steamy tide. Over sensitised from his prolonged state of arousal, the Umbrella chairman slammed into her one last time before releasing his seed inside of her.

Exhausted, Excella’s legs gave out and she slumped over the desk in a pool of post orgasmic bliss. Her centre was aching and she knew it would be several days before she could walk straight again, but as she felt the foreign heat gather in her belly she lost all ability to care. Her new world was forming and with a future as its queen, she knew she could look forward to experiencing this ache many more times to come.


“This is command central, sentries 1 and 2 you should have delivered your report two minutes ago, is something wrong? Sentries 1 and 2 Responded!” Ordered the technician, visibly flustering as the link remained deathly silent. New to the communication hub and anxious to avoid making a mistake, he seemed to be taking the silence as a personal affront. Yet it was with certain resentment that he turned to report the problem to his commanding officer. “We’ve lost contact with sentries 1 and 2, sir”

Standing in the centre of the command point’s platform, the officer turned to the technician with a startled expression. Middle aged and growing fat with laziness, he bustled over awkwardly to where the operator sat. Like some over grown pigeon, he peered over the man’s shoulder at the computer screen, examining it with furtive rodent eyes as if the answer lay right there beneath the idiot’s nose. However if it did then he must have been an idiot of the same like as he saw nothing afoot that could cause the breakdown in communications.

“Sentry three is not responding either Sir. He was just making his report when the line went silent.” A more experienced technician suddenly said, looking up from his work station to where the Duty stood in search of answers.

Unfortunately he had none to give, and in an attempt to buy time he looked anxiously from one technician to the other until finally he came up with an answer. “There must be a problem with the server, send an engineer to find the problem while runners go and collect the sentries’ reports.”


“The preparations are almost complete, soon we can leave.” Excella said confidently, her soft voice made rich and vibrant by a caecilian accent. Adorned by a heavy gold necklace and dressed in a cream coloured silken dress which clung to hourglass figure like a second skin, she couldn’t off looked more at home in Wesker’s private apartment. Lavishly furnished in heavy oak furniture and lit by the low light of a few dozen lamps, the chamber seemed more like a luxurious hotel penthouse than an underground bunker and it would have been an easy mistake to make if not for the apartment’s lack of windows. 

Sprawled across the stylish leather couch like a relaxed Siamese cat, she had opted to leave her luxurious wash of onyx black hair cascading down her shoulders and it served as the only hint to their earlier dalliance across Wesker’s desk. Her lover gaze no such hints as he sat across from her in a comfortable arm-chair. Dressed in an immaculate black uniform and wearing his signature sunglasses, the chairman of the Umbrella Corporation appeared more god than man.

“Good, so now your position in this partnership is secure.” Wesker said, watching behind the reflective glass with a look of mild approval. However, Excella wasn’t content with that and slowly got up from the couch before seductively swaying her rounded hips as she walked around Wesker’s chair, her soft hand running over the leather as she did.

“Ohhh… I have my eyes set on something much bigger.” Her full lips turned up in a sly smile and she took a moment to consider her words before continuing. “You’ll be needing a queen, right? Someone suitable to stand by your side in your new world. I believe I’ve proven myself worthy, haven’t I?” With that she seductively sauntered over to the king size before turning to face him as she slid back to sit on the feather soft covers, Her legs were parted, revealing all the beauty of natural treasures to Wesker’s ever watchful gaze.

“Perhaps you have…” He whispered, his voice retaining something of a predatory note as he briskly stood up and advanced towards Excella, making her heart flutter with excitement. However her aspirations were foiled when a billowing alarm suddenly echoed through the facility. “Those fools.” He didn’t spare her a second glance as he hurried out the apartment.


“Will someone turn that fucking alarm off?” The Duty officer asked hotly, drops of perspiration visibly rolling down his forehead as he began to panic. The situation had grown rapidly worse and now they’d lost contact with all the sentries and to top it all off, someone had set off the alarm. Even if this all proved to be nothing, he’d be lucky to escape with his life should Chairman Wesker find out. Just the thought of what had happened to his predecessor was enough to send a very cold chill down his spine and he couldn’t help breathing a little easier when the shrill alarm suddenly died. That was until he saw the menacing figure all clad in black walking up the stairs to the hub.

“Chairman Wesker…” The Duty stuttered, suddenly jumping to attention as the giant of a man stood over him. Standing at roughly six foot four, Wesker towered over every other man in sight and his impossibly broad and muscular physique, which the smartly prepared uniform could barely contain, certainly didn’t help him to blend in amongst relatively stick-like Umbrella soldiers. The mere presence of the Umbrella head caused many of the technicians to stiffen with terror and their Duty officer struggled to meet his cold stare.

“Report.” Barked Wesker, his voice cold and hard as he made no effort to hide the contempt with which he regarded the officer.

“Sir. A Half-hour ago we began to lose contact with some of the perimeter sentries, at first we thought it might have been a problem with the communications network but then…”

“How many have we lost?” Wesker asked, interrupting the Duty Officer’s explanation as he grew impatient.

Sensing the danger of his predicament, the duty officer hesitated before answering, his voice trembling with fear. “All of them.”

“And yet you wait 30minutes to tell me?”

“I…I didn’t want to disturb you.” The officer mumbled, he seemed to be on the verge of tears now and perhaps it was this pathetic display which saved his deplorable life as Wesker then seemed to lose all interest in him.

“Get me the surface gate.” Wesker barked at the nearest technician, his voice retaining its usual steadiness as he turned to face a video screen that had suddenly buzzed into life to reveal an Umbrella Soldier. Garbed from head to toe in the black ballistic wears, it was impossible to tell just who this nameless mercenary might have been , but one look at who was on the other end of the line was enough to make him stand to attention and give a brisk salute.

“Sir! This is the Surface gate, Sir.”

Wesker smiled at the familiar attitude of a professional soldier; at least he was not entirely surrounded by fools. “This is Chairman Wesker. We’ve lost contact with the perimeter sentries, report your situation.”

“Everything is quite here sir.”

“There have been no sign of Intruders?” Wesker asked, fighting to remain calm as he sought to remove any doubt from his mind. “No breach or alarm of any kind?”

“Negative, everything seems – wait …” The soldier suddenly ushered, his demeanour changing entirely as he raised an M16, its under-barrel spotlight illuminating whatever lay before him. “Oh my God, multiple targets within the perimeter…” From out of nowhere a gunshot rang out and the soldier’s body crumpled to the floor, his helmet split in two by a bullet which had also sprayed his brains the monitor.

Although far from squeamish, Wesker couldn’t help taking a step back as a deafening chorus of automatic fire bellowed from all directions and cut into the main gate’s guard in a storm of hot lead. “Identify Targets, I repeat Identify the targets!” He called, trying to reform order amongst the panicking soldiers, however he was answered only by a fresh hail of gunfire, and the pained screams of the dying. And then he saw it, a scant flash of pale flesh in the distance. “Blow the surface charges.” The command made every set of eyes look up from their screen, but only one had the courage to say something, or perhaps it was stupidity…

“Sir…” The duty officer said, his voice returning as he got a second wind of courage to speak up for what was right. “Our men are still up there, you cannot…” His words died as the Umbrella chairman pulled out a gleaming Desert Eagle from the within the breast of his uniform and without and even looking up, shoot him between the eyes. At point blank range, the heavy calibre round blew the Duty Officer’s head clean off and what was left fell to the Hub’s floor in a rapidly forming puddle of gore.

“Would anyone else like to be heard?” No one spoke. Fearful of joining the Duty Officer, the technicians quickly began typing away at their stations in a desperate race to arm the surface charges before Chairman Wesker decided who next to kill.

It happened so fast not a soul on the surface could have run. An explosion the colour of the sun ripped up from beneath the painted concrete of Shibuya square and painted the night sky in a furious orange and yellow light. Watching the scene on the monitor, Wesker felt the hint of a smile grace his lips up as a second and a third then reached up into the sky with the same devastating force. Then the picture suddenly died as the surface camera was disintegrated in a fourth blast.

Smug in his confidence, Wesker waited for the technicians to update him on the situation. It would take a few minutes; the heat from the blast would distort the satellite signal and render thermal scans useless. He could afford to wait, nothing on earth, biological or otherwise, could have survived that.

“Movement!” A technician suddenly cried, causing Wesker’s smile to vanish as he turned to face the man who’d spoken. “Eh…Multiple targets.”

“How many?” Wesker demanded before storming over to stand over the beeping workstation and its bewildered operator. To his dismay, the screen showed multiple figures emerging from the burnt out wrecks of Shibuya Buildings

“Twenty…no thirty… no…” The man couldn’t keep count as more and more of the hostile force emerged from their shelters and advanced towards the main Gate.

“They are heading for the entrance; I want three security teams at that elevator. Now!”


The entrance hall of the Tokyo Facility was a towering chamber made of steel and concrete. Its walls were bare except for the red and white heptagon of Umbrella and rows of heavily armoured vehicles were lined up along them like soldiers waiting deployment. The main elevator shaft from the surface led down to here, hidden from sight in a concealed corner and covered by a reinforced blast door, it should have been impregnable.

Chairman Wesker’s order had completely circled the facility in seconds and security teams had been in the hall moments after the command sounded. Carrying heavy bullet proof shields and armed to the teeth with great Howa-89 Machine guns, they stormed into the entrance chamber in their dozens. Taking up position at the mouth of the corner, they locked their defences together to form a shield wall that surrounded the blast door as the screech of the descending elevator punctured the tense silence.

For many of the Umbrella Soldiers, it was the longest couple of seconds of their lives. Few of their number knew the true nature of what had happened on the surface level and those that did didn’t believe it. It was just too impossible to be true.

There was a rustle of metal as a figure slipped almost silently from an air shaft and dropped behind the Umbrella Troops; however they didn’t hear it over the sound of their own drumming hearts. The Elevator was stopping; the only thing standing between them and its murderous occupants was a steel door that happened to be more than 10-inches thick. With a hiss of exchanging air, the blast door began to slide open. It was empty.

For a moment, the mercenaries could only look at each other, confused and unsure of what to do next. Then they heard it, a light patting, a sound that was almost too soft for them to hear, and so erratic it resembled the pita-patta of a running mouse, or a stalking feline. It was only by chance that one of them happened to glance back and see the figure all dressed in black coming at them. Startled, he ushered in a breath to shout the alarm but all that came out was chocked gasp and a spray of blood as a Shuriken Star became lodged deep in his throat. He fell back dead just as two other projectiles felled his mercenary brothers.

The surprise attack threw the Umbrella soldiers into a state of chaos and as they struggled to turn about with the heavy gear encumbering them, Alice barrelled into them. In one fluid motion, she drew the two Katanas that were scabbarded across her back and attacked with a lightning sweep that carved into the first two guards, the razor sharp blades cleaving through Kevlar like it was paper and disembowelling them both. Carrying the motion through, she brought the swords up and used backhanded swings to foul the ones behind, chopping into their ribs and sending up a shower of blood and gore from the ruptured cavities.

The Umbrella Soldiers fell before her like threshed wheat and spinning on her heel, she ran up one of the shields and jumped over the heads of the remaining men in the barricade. With the swords out stretched, she twisted her body around in mid-flight and carved a hole in the tightly packed mercenaries before landing gently on her feet. Two of the soldiers were already coming at her however, yet she didn’t so much as bat an eye lash before jumping forward to meet them, ducking beneath a clumsy punch before lancing the gore splattered long swords forward and impaling both men on the finely honed steel.

It wasn’t over however, all around her the Umbrella troopers were coming back to their senses and she only had time to pull one of the swords from the limp corpse before every gun in the hall was trained on her. Not bothering to wait for a command, the soldiers unleashed a salvo of hot lead at the woman, the billowing resonance echoing cacophonously around the subterranean hall as heavy shells slammed into the walls and spat great chunks of concrete across the floor. With no chance to attack, Alice was forced to run and wheeled around before taking flight.

Unable to get a clear shot at her, the mercenaries kept firing, the spent cartridges clattering to the tiled floor in their hundreds as the glowing rounds ricocheted in every direction. Powdered stone and splintered metal fell in thick clouds as the bullets sought out fleeing Alice, only she was too fast and one fell short before she suddenly dived under the cover of a wall. Recognising this as this their first real chance of cornering the agile woman, they turned all their attentions on the wall and began firing their weapons in earnest, chipping away the wall piece by piece until there wasn’t a stone untouched by the lead.

Stopping their salvo only when their guns were on the verge of overheating, the soldiers gave it a moment before signalling one to go check it out. Understandably he hesitated, obviously still able to recall the fate of the last men to try and take the woman at close range. There was no room in Umbrella for cowardice however, and after a moment he took a cautious step forward. Making sure to keep a ready finger on the still smoking gun’s trigger, he edged closer and closer to the stone before suddenly jumping around the bend, gun poised and ready.

The sword was rammed through his heart before he could even utter a word of surprise and Alice grabbed both him and his gun anyone could realise what had just transpired. Pushing the body round the bend, she turned the weapon on the soldiers and opened fire with the remaining rounds in a dreadful cascade of death.

Caught off guard once again by the woman’s cunning, the soldiers tried to return fire but Alice was using the man’s body as a human shield and not one shot came close to hitting her as the deadly hail cut down everything in her way. Impatiently squeezing the trigger until every one of the Kevlar clad bodies dropped to the bloody ground and lay at her feet. Looking down on the bullet ridden bodies, she couldn’t help but smile lazily. Umbrella’s pawns were always too easy…

“Don’t move!” A voice suddenly demanded, making her look up in mild amusement as a fresh squad of security operatives lined up behind her, their heavy shields locking together as every weapon they had fixed on her and left no avenue for her escape. With a shrug she dropped the empty Howa-89 and the corpse it was attached to before turning to face the shield wall, anticipating an attack, the soldiers primed their firearms. Obviously they weren’t planning on taking her alive so she left her sword embedded in the corpse’s ribcage and took in a deep, steadying breath before pushing all the stress from as she tried hard to focus on a single memory. A memory of piece and warmth, of tranquillity and ease, a false memory designed to lull her into a serene calm as she reached deep within herself.

She blinked, causing her irises to dilate and the walls around her to shake as an invisible force suddenly began rocking the hall like a rumble of thunder. Panicking, the shield wall opened fire and Alice answered the challenge by sending out a psychic blast. Like a tsunami, the energy wave ripped across the hall and destroyed everything in its path, ploughing up the heavy stone flooring and crumbling the walls before slamming into the shield wall. The men cried in agony as the blast threw them off their feet and hurled them in every direction, the awful debris snapping their bones and shredding their bodies.

Only when every last one of the troopers was dead did the dust start to settle, the ravaged bodies of the dead falling in bloody heaps atop the rubble as Alice walked forward he dazedly. The chamber was a wreck in the blast’s aftermath and she stumbled almost blindly over the mix of twisted metal and gore splattered stone until the rustle of approaching footsteps brought her back from the world of dreams. More Umbrella soldiers were coming; she could already hear the officers barking orders to shoot to kill…

A bullet suddenly slammed into her back, hot as the sun it tore through her Lycra body suit and blew away her heart in a fountain of gore. Throwing back her head, she tried to cry out in agony but two more shots silenced her death cry. Her strength vanished as the gore flowed from her ruined torso and she fell heavily to the floor, what remained of her life’s blood pooling all around her.

The security reinforcements burst into the chamber to find the intruder dead on the floor, a lone survivor standing over her body. Not sure what to make if this startling revelation, the soldier’s exchanged smug looks before coming to stand round the body.

“Now Boys…” The voice made the trooper’s look up in surprise, their heads shooting round to where three identical copies of the woman were stood. “is that any way to treat a lady?” Terror gripped the Soldier’s in its cold fist and they were unable to move as the ones on the right and left stepped forward. While the Alice in the centre was armed with another pair of Katanas, these two were armed with TMP sub-machine guns and they raised the weapons with a cool efficiency before pulling the triggers and emptying the magazines into the still clueless soldiers.


“Dammit!” Wesker cursed, losing his composure for a moment as he watched the facility’s security force get annihilated by the women. He’d underestimated these creatures, they were clearly more persistent then Isaacs had led him to believe. He’d sent in his best men and hoped to get the better of the Alice’s with a numerical advantage, only they’d been cut to ribbons and now more of the bitches were appearing.

On every monitor, he watched as the Alice clones dispatched what remained of his security force, their superior agility allowing them to get around the troopers’ arsenal and stay one step ahead in the fight. Suddenly, some of the monitors turned to static and Weskler’s eyes darted from screen to screen until finally he found the problem; one of the Alices was shooting the hidden cameras. Cursing again, he was about to give the technicians new orders when an explosion rocked the atrium and caused many of the operators to bolt from their seats in fright.

“Stay at your stations!” He demanded, irritated by their cowardice and the apparent lack of efficiency from the top-price mercenaries he’d employed; an army of cooks could have put up a better fight. “Flood the entrance level with nerve gas.” Too afraid of the chairman to argue, they hastily began typing the orders but it wasn’t enough.

“I’m verifying intruders in sections one through five, seven and eight.” Said A tech, his voice shaking slightly as he felt the chairman’s cold gaze set on him. “Also there are reports of gunfire in ten and eleven.”

“I want all security protocols to be put in full effect. Lockdown all elevators immediately, seal the internal blast doors and activate security turrets… and I want damage reports.”


The security here was better than at the others. The Alice clones had thought their way through dozens of these Umbrella facilities but this was the first time they had found themselves halted half way through. Despite the weight of their assault, the few surviving members of the security force had regrouped in several easy to defend locations and were now taking the fight back.

Furiously squeezing the triggers of her TMPs as she ran, Alice clone Gama worked desperately to dismantle one of the barricades. She was in an office of some sort, deserted computer stations and rumpled desks were scattered everywhere she looked and the Umbrella troopers had formed a blockade in its centre. Explosive flashes burst from every part of the embattled defender’s barrier as they tried to pin her down with surprising fields of fire but like her sister in the Entrance chamber, Gama was too fast for their bullets to hit. But neither could she hit them…

Unable to aim, she blasted off rounds that harmlessly bounced off the Kevlar armour. Occasionally she got lucky and one of the rounds would hit a soft mark but they were few and far between. Too make matters worse, her extended magazine had almost run dry.

Needing cover to reload, she dived behind a stone column, pressing herself flat against it as thunderous salvo of lead slammed into the other side. Ejecting both spent clips; she rammed a fresh pair inside the guns and was about to return fire when she suddenly noticed that another one of her sisters was pinned behind another column. Good, she could do with the extra help. Judging by the distasteful look on her face, her sister had come to the same conclusion and they tipped their heads in mutual readiness before stepping out of cover and opening up a barrage of fire on the barricade.

Caught by the duo’s attack, some of the Umbrella troopers were cut down but many managed to withstand the blow and returned fire with such ferocity that Gama and her sister were abruptly forced back under cover.

“Fuck!” Gama cursed as a stray bullet narrowly missed blowing her skull apart. Casting her eyes around, she suddenly noticed something strange about the wall facing her and her sister, it appeared to be breaking under the deadly hail of bullets. ‘No not breaking… shattering!’ It was a tinted window which had resembled stone in the low light, but now its true nature was for all to see and it gave her an idea.

Shooting a glance at her sister, she holstered one of her guns before withdrawing a small incendiary grenade and holding it out for her to see before nodding at the window. Getting the idea, she withdrew her on grenade and on the count of three, they stepped out and hurled the bombs at the still firing soldiers. Taken aback, the mercenaries stopped their onslaught for a moment as they peer down dumbly at the grenades. It gave the Alices their chance and with a yell they burst out of hiding and made for the window, their TMPs flashing as a blistering hail of bullets exploded from the muzzles.

Realising the danger, the troopers tried to flee but most were cut down as the sisters made the dash to the window. Weakened by the barrage, the tinted glass shattered beneath their charge and gravity seized them in its clutches and pulled them down. Caught in free fall, Gama used her free hand to reach inside her gear and pull free a small pod that was teethed to her belt by a retractable cord. In a practised move, she whirled her body around and threw the pod skyward; its miniature body opening into a grappling hook as the internal sensors locked onto a bean and pulled it to it. Grabbing the pole like a striking viper, the pod locked tight and wouldn’t budge.

A glance told Gama her sister had done the same so without fear, they let the fall take them as the cord began to slow their descent. It was a long drop, stretching out for over half a mile, yet strangely she felt no fear. Fear was not a word she had any meaning for. There was only the mission, the mission to destroy Umbrella and now she had them clear in her sights. Over the roar of the whipping wind, she heard the grenades go off and then felt the wash of hot air on her back when a great cloud of choking black smoke enveloped everything in her and her sister’s wake. There was fire up their too, but Gama didn’t worry, they were too far ahead of the blast to have any fear of getting burned.

Far below she could make out the communications centre, a collection of small peapod like hubs that were all gathered together around one master station. That was her target. The only problem was a small army of men, no bigger than ants to her now, happened to be swarming all over it.

Snatching up her second gun even as the whipping wind blew full force against her, she opened up a furious stream of fire that rained down on the unsuspecting spectators below like a deadly lead hailstorm. The howling winds silencing the TMPs’ clamorous retort along with the screams of the dying as she and her sister dropped through the Atrium like a pair of latex garbed raptors on the hunt.

Grabbing whatever weapons they could find, the technicians that were still able to move started to return fire; however Gama and her sister were descending too fast for their eyes to focus and the bullets flew buy the clones harmlessly. The technicians’ poor shooting made Gama want to laugh, this was going to be easier than shooting fish in a barrel.

Her guns ran dry the moment before the tether pulled tight and she twisted her body over to break the quick release before free falling for the last few metres. By all rights the death-defying fall should have killed her and left her body as nothing more than gore splattered ruin, but when she landed in the command centre’s master hub, it was with all the nimble grace and ease of a panther. All eyes were on her in an instant and taking advantage of the techs’ stunned disbelief, she rammed her last two clips into thee TMPs before turning them on…

Her eyes widened as she saw the immense figure all dressed in black and wearing shades. There was no mistaking that dark, fearsome exterior and her heart suddenly burned with renewed hatred as she recognised him as being Albert Wesker, her primary target and eternal nemesis.

She would have shot the Umbrella CEO right then and their but he showed remarkable speed for a man who appeared to be made up almost entirely of muscle and dived behind a desk before her sub-machine guns could draw level.   However before she could go after him, a firestorm erupted all around her as the technicians came to their senses and opened fire on Gama. They may have been bad shots, but in this tight a quarter, skill didn’t matter. Even if they couldn’t hit her, a ricocheting bullet could kill her just as easily as a true one.

Moving faster than any human could imagine, she whirled around and began firing manically at the nearest targets, taking them out in the blink of an eye before turning on the next. They may have had her outnumbered, but Gama was the faster and she delighted in showcasing that fact by mercilessly slaughtering the Umbrella staff as if she were an unstoppable killing machine. With every hit, a fresh spray of gore splattered across the procaine white floor of the central Hub and it wasn’t long before a mass of bullet riddled bodies lay crumpled and twisted at her feet, their death cries still echoing around the atrium as smoky tentacles floated up from her guns.

Breathing a little harder than she had been before the massacre, Gama surveyed her work fondly until a figure suddenly lunged up from the shadows. It was Wesker, and he was armed. Recognising the danger posed by his two gleaming Desert Eagle Magnums, she spun on her hip, trying to escape the weapon’s range as she brought her TMPs up to bear and fired. Her heart seeming to die the instant the machine guns kicked back with a dull ‘click’. The magazines were empty.

Too late she realised just how many bullets she’d used to kill the technicians and as she looked up, there was just enough time for her to catch the smile was turning his lips up before the burning heat of two heavy calibre rounds slammed into her heart.


Wesker watched the Alice clone die with great satisfaction, it felt good to cut lose after four years of wearing the tight fitting suit of an executive. While there were many rewards to be the chairman of the world’s largest commercial entity, nothing could compare to the thrill of the firing line. And the knowledge that he had so easily vanquished a dangerous enemy made the moment all the sweater.

Kicking aside a technician’s bloody corpse, he was about to take his leave when a long burst of automatic gunfire suddenly rang out, drawing his attention to one of the other hubs. It was the one upon which the other Alice clone had landed and to Wesker’s disgust, she appeared to be having no problem taking out the men stationed there.

“Incompetent morons!” He growled as one of the technicians lost a perfectly good kill shot because he’d forgotten to take the safety off his pistol, and then was promptly shoot by one of his colleagues who seemed to forgotten the entire concept of aiming. “Must I do everything myself?” Before he could solve the problem, a low rustle of movement drew his attention back to the Corpses on the floor. To his amazement, the Alice clone was still moving.

There was little life left inside of her, with every second more and more of her life’s blood was bled away and Wesker guessed she might have another minute or so before death took her completely. It would be merely a waist of a good bullet to shoot her again, but as he looked down on the crumpled form lying face down before him, he couldn’t resist the urge to make her last moments as terrible as possible.

Crossing over to his adversary with long, quick strides, he approached her much the way a blood lusting predator would advance upon its dying prey and took no small pleasure from kicking her hard before using the heel of his boot to roll the body over. However it seemed the clone was not as dead as he first thought, wide awake she looked up at him with furious eyes that seemed to be looking past his shaded glasses and boring into his very soul.

“Fuck you.” Gama whispered, her voice faltering under the effort to speak as blood touched her lips. Her passion pleased Wesker, he would enjoy making her cry out and beg for mercy before he made her drown in whatever was left of her blood. Something metallic fell to the ground with a dull ring and curious; he looked down and saw two incendiary grenades lying on the floor, the pins removed and detonators ticking.

The sight of the active bombs caused Wesker’s grin to vanish and he turned and ran for his life.  His heavy boots squelching through the thick soup of blood end entrails as he made the life or death dash across the hub, his immense bulk aligning with an impossible grace as he dived over the balcony, just a second too late.

With a deafening roar, the grenades exploded and an all-consuming cascade of fire and shrapnel swallowed up Gama’s body and burnt her remains to cinders. A blinding flash followed as the blast of white hot flame tore the station apart and engulfed the flying CEO, only by the sheerest dumb luck did he sail over the threshold before the fiery wrath could completely consume him; landing with a heavy thud on the walkway below.

Struggling to his feet, Wesker winced as a savage pain shot through his leg and looking down, he saw that it had been horribly mangled by the blast. Broken and twisted beyond all recognition, Wesker had to force himself to move and he hobbled pathetically down the walkway, the echoing gunfire only adding wings to his flight.

Without a doubt, this was the most embarrassing moment of Wesker’s life. Forced to flee his own high-tech fortress by an insubordinate scientist’s cloned experiment, it was intolerable and he began to wish he’d never heard the notion of Project ALICE. Forcing himself to look his humiliation, he continued on yet his mind was so absorbed by this injustice that he seemed not to notice the way his bones were miraculously reknitting themselves so that he walked a little easier with every step.

Nearing gun shots rang out like a chorus of thunder in the passages but Wesker was walking like a young man again by then and scurrying through the labyrinth with ease. Thankfully his way was clear, with every remaining member of the facility busy fighting for their lives against the invading clones in the atrium; he would be saved the dirty business of having to kill his own men. Retracing the steps he knew would take him along the fastest route to the hanger, a confident smile lit up his handsome features when the electric doors before him opened up to reveal an immense chamber that’s ceiling reached up all the way to the surface.

All around him, V-22 Osprey VTOL Helicopters sat, fully fuelled and waiting to be manned yet Wesker walked past them all without the slightest recognition, his gaze fixed instead on a steel door that was marked in big blood red letters, ‘Private! Authorised Personnel only.’ Placing a large hand on the biometric handprint scanner that had been mounted on the wall next to the door, causing the walls to shudder as the interred mechanisms recognised his genetic markers and activated the door, revealing a darkened subterranean passage.

The passage resembled something out of a 1930s horror movie. The walls were untreated stone, rough and uneven under touch with edges sharp enough to cut through Kevlar. The air was fresh but also thick and it carried a cold morning breeze. And it was dark, very dark. With no instruments or technology fitted to light it, the tunnel was as wickedly black as the darkest ocean depths. Yet Wesker moved through it confidently, knowing rather than seeing his way through the gloom until finally he emerged in a well-lit cavern that was almost as large as the V-22s’ hanger.

This was the hanger of Wesker’s own personal aircraft, an immense flying wing stealth bomber that had been based on the design of a B-2 Spirit and then customized with JATO rockets and an AI unit that would serve the duties of a flight crew when activated.  It was the most advanced aircraft in the world and set on top of a catapulted ramp that would launch it into a shaft to the surface, it was just waiting for him to make his escape.

Squinting against the sudden brightness of the overhanging florescent lights, he stepped into the hanger but no sooner had he done so than a figure suddenly stepped from the shadows. Acting on impulse, he raised his gun and was about to fire when he recognised it as being Excella Gionne.

“Thank God you made it Albert.” She said coolly, apparently unfazed by the gun pointing at her as she stepped completely out of the shadows. Although a little dishevelled, she appeared uninjured and carried herself with that unflinching air of confidence as she approached him. In one hand she was carrying a 9mm berretta, in the other a silver carrying case containing the latest version of the T-virus. The sight of the case brought a smile to Wesker’s lips, but Excella, believing it to be a sign of his affections, made the mistake of dropping it as she broke into a run before throwing her arms around him; crushing her voluptuous body against his as she held him in a tight embrace.

It was a tender moment and she was surprised when he didn’t respond with the affection he had before. Instead he just stood still in her arms and after a moment; Excella looked up at him with wide tearful eyes. To her displeasure, he appeared unmoved by her show of emotion and only looked down at her with a smouldering disdain, then she felt the immense weight pushing against her lower abdomen and looked down just in time to see the barrel of his Desert Eagle angling towards her heart. “Albert?”

When the gun fired, the bullet slammed into her with all the force of an avalanche and she practically feel the lead round ripping a its way through her chest before obliterating her heart and exploding out her back in a bloody mist. There was only one pain after that and as the world began to darken, she asked “Why?”

Wesker didn’t care for her sentiment and as she collapsed, he walked past without a second look. Holstering both Eagles, he scooped up the case and ran up the bomber’s cargo bay ramp as a flurry of approaching voices echoed through the rocky passage. Immediately heading for the cockpit, he dashed through the cargo dock without so much as a perusing eye. Setting the sealed box down beside him as he got into the pilot’s chair, he had just enough time to remotely seal the ramp before what was left of the Alice clones came running into the hanger with sub-machine gun’s blazing.

Smirking triumphantly as the bullets bounced harmlessly off the plane’s armour plating, Wesker ignited the engines and began the take-off procedure. The JATO rockets firing to life in an explosive inferno that turned the very rock face to crystal and he had just enough time to give the clones a jaunty salute through the cockpit’s windows before pulling back on the controls to let the catapult launch the plane. The force of the take-off threw Wesker back into his seat and he could feel his teeth grating together as the bomber ran the length of the ramp before being launched into the near vertical shaft that had been especially designed for the bomber’s ascension.

Exploding through the still opening blast doors, the slick plane lifted high above the ruins of Tokyo before levelling out as it set a course west. Letting the AI take over the piloting, a jubilant Wesker reached into his jacket’s inner breast pocket and pulled out a remote. It was only a tiny device, considerably smaller than the palm of his hand, yet he had ensured it was kept it on his person at all times. This was the true power of an Umbrella chairman and with a flick of his thumb, he sieved through the available options until finally coming to his desired menu; ‘PURGE FACILITY’.


Watching as their primary target disappeared into the tunnel; the clones let their weapons drop. This battle was over, but they’d far from lost the war. All the major Umbrella bases had been destroyed; there were only a handful of facilities Wesker could run to, he wouldn’t elude them for long.

A loud click suddenly cut through the silence, making the clones turn their heads to where a large box red and white painted box had been mounted on a nearby wall. The word ‘Purge’ had been stamped across it in big read letters and the Umbrella logo had been embossed just above a digital timer that was rapidly counting down.


“Move!” one of the clones cried, but it was already too late. Trying to get a head start over the bomb some made a run for it while the others tried desperately to open the box.


Slamming the butt of their guns against the locks while some tried prying at its edges with their fingers, the clones tied everything in their power to disable the device until finally the lid crumpled. Throwing the shattered covering across the hanger, they found that the wall mounted box contained a battlefield nuclear device.



 Flying high above the clouds, Wesker watched in delight as a second sun suddenly consumed the once vibrant and fertile city of Tokyo. The wakening sky turning a bright white as the pale blue inferno reached up into the heavens and dashed away all that had ever stood there. High winds of fire and gas tossed broken metal into the sky and the shock of the expanding dome struck the bomber like thunder, the control panel shaking violently until it rose too high for the blast too touch.

At this altitude, the night sky twinkled as the pre-dawn light turned its reaches a shade of pale lavender and Wesker was at last able to relax. Sinking back into the pilot’s chair, he let out a shallow breath as his eyes fell closed behind the shades. It had been a long night and now he wanted to rest, even with the use of this magnificent plane it still take half a day to reach his new headquarters, his Arcadia. 

In the rear of the plane, a shadow emerged from some darkened confine and the figure of a woman came forward. Dressed in the same Lycra bodysuit as the clones, she moved as silently as coming death and crept up behind Wesker without making a sound before firmly pressing the muzzle of a USP-9 against his temple.

“Any last words?” Alice asked, her voice becoming very cold as she looked down upon him with the merciless, unflinching gaze of a predator. At last the moment she had longed for had come, now was the moment she would avenge all those she had loved and lost, all those who had given their lives to stop Umbrella. She intended to enjoy it…

Irritated by the interruption, Wesker reached beneath an instrument panel to remove something before suddenly lurching out of the chair. Moving faster than any human should have been able to; he came around with one hand clasping something sharp and made to stab her neck. Thinking he had a knife, she tried to retreat but the pilot’s chamber was too small for her to move freely and he jammed the weapon home before she could defend herself.

A jolt of pain shot through her as the unusually long blade cut her deeper than any knife should, but strangely that was the only pain she felt as she staggered back. Wesker made no move to stop her; In fact he seemed to enjoy watching her as she pulled the weapon out of her neck to find that it wasn’t a knife. It was a stainless steel syringe.

Shocked and confused, she glared at her nemesis questioningly. Then suddenly she dropped the needle as a look of intense agony spread across her features. It was as if a fire had been set in her flesh, its deadly heat boiling her blood and dissolving her organs.

“How nice it is to finally meet the real Project Alice.” Wesker said before moving to stand over her crumpled body, his eyes twinkling with merrily behind the shaded glasses as he took in the pained expression. “Hurts, doesn’t it. Well I’m afraid that is only the beginning. As we speak micro-organisms are coursing through your blood stream and neutralising T-cells. So pretty soon all those powers of yours…speed…strength…accelerated healing. Well you kiss all that good bye. Put simply the Umbrella Corporation is taking back its property. I’m afraid you just didn’t work out.” He sniggered at the notion, clearly enjoying his opportunity to play god. “So you’re being recalled.”

His words flamed her anger and caused some of the pain to dissipate as she used the last of her strength to raise the USP-9. However it was much heavier than she remembered and Wesker, not willing to give her another chance, had snapped a kick into her chest before she could even bring the gun to bear. Knocked back by the incredible power of his attack, her body did a flurry of reverse summersaults as she was thrown out the cockpit and sent flying across the cargo bay before finally slamming into the air locked door and crumpling to  the floor.

Dipping in and out of consciousness, she could only just muster the willpower to lift her head as Wesker came forward, his hand dipping out of sight as he reached for one of his eagles.

“What are you?” She asked in a voice that was little more than a whisper. Something was horribly wrong here, even when she had been human, Alice had been better than most and not even the Nemesis Project had been able to land a blow quite like the one Wesker had just dealt her, no human could.

“Me? Why I am what you use to be.” He proclaimed, stepping into the cargo bay with his gleaming weapon drawn. His heavy footfalls echoing as he walked unhurriedly towards the fallen woman, aiming the heavy pistol between her eyes. “…Only I’m better.”

Believing it to be over, Wesker paid no mind to anything other than the kill that was to come, yet Alice saw all and despite the immediate danger, she couldn’t help looking past Wesker and smiling as she saw the flash of movement.

Standing over the helpless Alice, about to deliver the coup de grace, Wesker felt rather than heard the presence behind him and swinging around, he just had enough time to witness the flash of steel. Rear back, he tried to dodge the blow but the attacker was too close and instead the razor sharp blade swooped down and sliced the gun’s thick barrel in two. Jumping away from his mystery assailant, he had just enough time to glance down and see that his weapon had been reduced to scrap before looking up and finding to his immense surprise that it was another Alice clone.

“Hhmmm…so it’s just another one of your clones.”  He observed, his lips twitching into a smile as he dropped the remnants of his pistol. “I must say, you are something of a weed. As soon as I cut one of you down, another comes along to take her place; how amusing.”

Not so amused, the clone leapt forward without warning, her Katana cutting a silver arc through the low light as she went at Wesker full throttle. However, the Umbrella Chairman was unfazed by her show of tenacity and stepped aside just as the blade was about to strike his cold flesh. Swinging around, the clone attacked again and again Wesker dodged it, rolling under the steel’s reach as he grabbed his second Desert Eagle from its holster. When he came up, the weapon was out but she was already moving, her sword reaching out in a cut that caught the gun across the hook of its trigger guard.

The impact knocked Wesker’s aim and when he fired, the bullet merely grazed her check so that a narrow cut oozed gouts of blood in its wake as for a single moment they were locked together. And then Wesker barged forward, using his weight advantage to throw her back. She stumbled, her leather boots slipping on the smooth metal floor while he recovered and took aim. Just catching herself before she fell, the clone cast her gaze around in time to glimpse Wesker smirking as he prepared to fire. With no time to think, she spun on her heel and made a frantic dash to the nearest wall. Gathering momentum, she leapt forward and literally began running up the wall. Pushing up with every step, she seemed able to defy gravity as she ran up and along smooth surface.

In the confined space of the cargo bay, the gunshot rang out as a deafening roar and her arm jerked violently when the bullet hammered against her. Strangely there was no pain, but the force of the impact made her lose balance and jump. Despite the hurried leap, she tumbled head over heels and landed nimbly with a jaguar’s grace before Wesker, her arms raised as she aligned the sword in a guard, only to find that the uppermost half of the blade had been shot off to leave her with little more than a ragged stump of ineptly proportioned metal. In this state, the Katana would be of less use to her than a butter knife.

Smirking as he saw the state of her weapon, Wesker levelled the gun at the clone. In truth there was still a danger from this one, with a second sword sheathed across her back and her powers still active, she would pose a moderate threat had he not had her in his sights. However, as it was she would never have time to draw the weapon, let alone attack him with it, before he emptied the clip into her. This fight was over.

Only she was of a different opinion. With superhuman speed, the clone hefted what remained of the Katana and hurled it at Wesker, inept, stumped blade first. Surprised but still faster than the eye could see, he lashed out and swatted the sword aside with a swipe of his hand but in that single instant, when his attention was divided, she acted. Rushing forward so quickly she verged on becoming a blur, she attacked with a roundhouse kick that should have cracked his skull back, had Wesker not seen the coming danger at the last possible instant. His iron hard fist slammed against her side, cracking several of her ribs as he twisted around her blow and then stepped through with an upper cut that sent the clone reeling. Grabbing her Lycra collar, he ended the skirmish by throwing her over his collar and across the bay.

Still winded, the clone skidded across the plaiting as if it were in fact a lake of ice, and Wesker didn’t wait for her to recover before firing a volley. Sparks ignited as the heavy rounds ricochet off the floor and walls as every shoot missed the free sailing clone by a hair’s breadth until she finally collided with the wall. Seeing his chance, Wesker levelled his eagle for the final shot when another shot rang out like the bolt of lightning in a thunderstorm as a bullet slammed into Wesker’s shoulder, spoiling his aim and giving the clone time to take cover.

Alice was back in the fight. With USP-9 raised and Wesker in her sights, she fired a perfect shot that ripped into Wesker’s shoulder and made him stagger. However he regarded the wound like it was nothing, so she fired again, and then again. Nothing could explain it but although her aim was still spot on, Wesker would dodge the bullet at the last moment, his super human speed taking him from one spot to the next in the blink of an eye. And each time he did, he came at her, appearing closer and until he was almost atop her, and then he was on her.

In the merest instant he went from firing at her sheltering clone to suddenly running at her full gallop, every well worked muscle in his body practically a quiver as came at her in a thunderous burst of kinetic energy. Moving too swiftly for her to focus, he slammed past her defences and rammed a shovel hook punch to her gut that her eyes widen and spittle fly from her parted lips as she grunted in agony. Still caught in his vortex of motion, Wesker dropped to one knee and suddenly swept his leg around, taking her legs out from under her as he came back up in the midst of a reverse round house with his opposite leg. The blow caught her aerial form across the ribs and tossed her heavily against the wall.

“No!” The clone cried, emerging from her shelter with the second sword drawn and clearly with a mind to come to her weakened sire’s defence. Her stupidity made Wesker smirk; only a fool brought a knife to a gun fight. He turned without warning, the smoking Eagle pistol levelled and ready as he blasted off a round that would take her head off. Only she suddenly dived forward, rolling across the floor in a tight ball as the bullet passed harmlessly over her. Unmoved by her prowess, he corrected his aim and fired again as she rose up. A flash of silver burnt in the darkness and then her sword was there, cutting across the bullet’s path before it could touch her and slicing the round in two.

The separate halves of the bullet flew in opposite directions as the clone curled up to her full height, the impossible sharp Katana spiralling around her in a deadly helix as she stepped forward and then whirled the sword down. Wesker darted round the descending blade but his gun was empty, the magazine spent in that last hail of fire, so instead he stepped through with a punch that hit with such force it pulverised her ribs and ripped through her chest cavity. Blood gushed from the clone’s lips as the blow broke her lungs and destroyed her heart before tearing from her back in a grisly shower of gore.

Already dead, the clone hung their limp and unmoving as the look of triumph crossed Wesker’s face; that had been all too easy. When the sword slipped from her lifeless fingers, he tossed the ruined corpse aside, regarding the bloodied form with a look one might usually reserve for something less than human before turning back to Alice. Near comatose, the stricken woman could only struggle for breath as she returned a look that was vibrant with hatred. It was time they ended this tiresome game.

He was upon her in an instant, standing over her exhausted body like some grim spectre of death. An ominous click rang out as he shoved his last clip inside the gun before pressing the weapon against her forehead. “Now where were we?” He asked mindfully, unable to resist taunting her before finally putting her out of his misery. “Ah yes, I believe I was about to kill you.”

“Wait…” Alice gasped, blood touching her lips as she tried to form the words. “Please wait.”

“Last words?” Wesker asked smugly, more than a little amused by the concept. “Or do you feel like begging for your life, I am a generous man you know.”

Alice would have laughed if she could must the energy. She wasn’t afraid to die, everyone has die sooner or later and she’d had her taste of it enough to know death couldn’t possibly be as bad as what her life had become. In truth she was only pissed off that she wouldn’t live long enough to see this beast pay for his crimes. But as much as it made her stomach turn to admit it, she did owe him something. “Thank you.”

“For killing you?”

“No…”Alice gasped, the pain in her side only growing worse as she tried to speak. “For making me human again.”

“My pleasure…” Wesker said before beginning to squeeze the magnum’s trigger. Suddenly an alarm began to sound, filling the bomber with its harsh song and drawing Wesker’s attention back to the cockpit. What he saw made that infernal smirk vanish.

The clone’s first sword, which he had so carelessly swatted aside, was stuck in the AI’s control panel, shutting the autopilot off. Too make matters worse without the programme to guide it, the bomber had been steadily losing altitude, throwing it on a collision course with the snow-capped peaks of Mount Fuji. At the ship’s present speed it would be only a matter of moments until they crashed. Forgetting Alice in lour of the much greater danger, Wesker turned away from the exhausted woman and made a desperate, life or death dash to the cockpit. Despite his incredible speed however, Wesker arrived at the controls too late to save them, instead he got to watch in horror as the bomber’s nose collided with the rock face before a monstrous ball of flames suddenly reached out and consumed him.

In the cockpit, Alice felt the collision jar the ship’s metal skeleton before the roar of the protesting metal almost deafened her, and then she was air born. Hurled forward as the bomber was tossed about wildly across the mountain face, she had just enough time to hear her Wesker’s agonized scream before a great fire ball exploded in front of her and devoured over half the ship. Then suddenly all went back as her head struck something hard and she fell into a great void of blackness.


It must have been the cold that roused Alice. It was a very cold morning and the icy winds crept across her body like Death’s chilling embrace. Barely conscious but still alive, her eyes fluttered open but her brain was still too shell-shocked from the blast to discern anything other than a bright light. Perhaps she was dead, but if this was heaven, why was it so cold?

In the distance she could hear a flock of Bush Warblers singing their song; it was a peaceful tune and an enjoyable contrast to the usual melancholy of her life as bit by bit, her senses gradually returned. At first her world view was just a blurry collage of indifferent colours and shapes, but then it was sharpened and defined as fresh colours blossomed and bloomed until she saw everything clearly.

The morning sky had turned from deep violet to a deep cerulean blue as the sun rose ever higher in its arch; the day had worn on some time since she had fallen unconscious. The landscaping was mostly dark rock but the brittle skeletons of a few dozen trees were scattered around her and she could just see the ruin of Tokyo in the distance, its remains still smoking from the blast. All around her broken pieces of metal burned, the fires warming her slightly against the freezing winds that blow across the rocky face of Mount Fuji. Not far away, the broken wreck of the bomber was still burning, the once magnificent armaments turned black as ash as it lay crippled and broken on the mountain side.  Without a doubt, she’d been lucky this time.

There was no way Wesker could have survived, but every one of her instincts told her she had to confirm the kill, that that bastard was too wily a beast to leave up to mere conjecture. She had to be sure, to see his burnt husk with her own two eyes, before believing him to be dead for sure.

Resolute in her decision, Alice reluctantly got to her feet, staggering slightly as she momentarily lost balance. Her body was heavier than it should have been, and the sudden movement caused her head to throb painfully; it was obviously going to take a while for her to get reacquainted with being human again.

In her concussion hindered state, the climb down to the wreck was steep and dangerous. The rocky ground was treacherous under her boots and winds that were approaching gale force threatened to throw her to the ground with every unsure step she took. It was a precarious journey and one that seemed to take forever as she methodically worked her way down the valley to the bomber.

Despite its once illustrious armour plating, little remained of the ship but scrap metal; its major components having either been destroyed by the gunfire or eaten away by the fiercely raging flames. Its wings were gone, torn away in the crash, and whatever remained of the engines could be seen burning on the outskirts of the crash site. Only the main compartment had remained largely intact, but whatever remained of the cockpit had been buried beneath the rocks while the mangled tail was almost standing vertical.

It towered over her and the surrounding rocks but Alice could just make out a thick column of dark smoke rising from its base and as she approached, treading as carefully as she dared over the lose stones, she found a crack just large enough for her to squeeze through. It was a tight fit but miraculously she managed to get through, her Lycra bodysuit protecting her skin from any jagged pieces of metal that might have reached out to claim her as she passed before stepping into the chocking blackness of the cargo bay.

Lit only by faint traces of ghost light and thick with the unrelenting smoke, the cargo bay proved to be as inhospitable as the mountain side it rested on. Coughing violently, Alice had to cover her nose and mouth to keep from suffocating in the pool of noxious gas and the smoke was so dense, she could barely see her hand in front of her face and so was forced to rely on fractured memories to navigate her way through the cloud. However, even when she was clearing the veil’s depths, the fragments of ghost light offered her little assistance. Reaching into her belt, she quickly equipped herself with a small torch that flooded the ruined ship with a brilliant beam of light when activated. Narrow but powerful; the beam of light confirmed Alice’s first assumption that the Cargo bay was empty.

Sweeping the light across the cargo bay, Alice suddenly felt her breath catch in her throat as the beam fell on something that was neither part of the wall or floor. It might have once been a body but the carbonised remnants had been burned and blackened beyond all recognition.

Unable to tell if it was Wesker’s smouldering corpse or just another ill shaped rock, she crept forward, trying to be mindful as she did of whatever might be underfoot. The charred remains reeked with the pungent odder of burning flesh and Alice had to fight against gagging as she reached out. Hot to touch, the effigy began to crumble under her fingers and it only just held together as she rolled it over.

“No…” Alice whispered disbelievingly as she stared down at a face that, despite being half burnt away, was almost the mirror image of her own. Horrified by the sight of her murdered clone’s remains, she staggered back and in doing so, almost lost her footing as she tripped on something that had been half hidden on the floor. Whirling around with her torch levelled, she was relieved to find it was just her USP-9.

Reaching down to reclaim the Heckler & Koch, Alice felt a strange sense of ease filling her. It had once belonged to Carlos Olivera, before his death in the Nevada desert he’d taken her aside and given it to her and made her promise to use it to bring down Umbrella. It was the last thing she had to remember the only man she’d ever loved. Preoccupied with her former Lover’s gun, Alice never noticed the moving darkness or the heavy thuds of approaching footfalls.

“It seems I underestimated you Alice,” The voice cut through her harmonica moment like the crack of a gunshot and Alice raised the gun in the voice’s direction before angling the torch towards it. The bright beam revealed something that was far from concerting. “Even as a human, your abilities far exceed the expectations of Dr. Isaacs.”

Albert Wesker was standing in the buried cockpit’s doorway, unfortunately alive though for what it mattered, he looked like he’d seen better days. His normal slick blond hair was dirty and dishevelled, his tailored uniform rumpled and torn, and burns of varying degree tarnished his once flawless skin. Yet despite it all, his shades seemed untouched by the explosion and the crash; some bastards just have all the luck.

“I’m only just getting started!” She said hotly, not really sure what else to say.
Things were not looking good. Although Alice had got Wesker in her sights, her USP-9 only had one round left and given the bastard’s speed, she may as well hurl the whole gun at him for all the good that one shot would do her. He on the other hand, had her out classed in every fashion and a Desert Eagle that was fully loaded and practically calling for her blood. Yes, things were bad, and if she didn’t find a way to even the odds, she’d by lying dead beside her clone before she can pull even pull the tiger…

Then she saw it, the answer to the greatest question ever asked, lying on the floor beside her clone’s charred body. The sword’s blade reflected the torch light, telling Alice exactly where it lay, partly submerged beneath debris between Wesker and the clone’s effigy. It was quite a distance; there was no way she’d make it without a distraction.

“Now…now Alice there’s no reason for us to be enemies. With Excella’s death, I find myself in need of a partner, someone to rule the world by my side…” Wesker said, his burnt lip twitching as if her were about to smile at the thought. Only Alice wasn’t interested.

“Go to hell!” She yelled before suddenly pulling back her arm and hurling the torch at Wesker. Turning over and over, the device  shot through the air like a rock as its blinding beam of light illuminated every corner of the Cargo Bay, yet he didn’t so much as bat an eye lash.  In a practised motion, he made to swipe the torch from the sky but Alice beat him to the punch. Raising her gun as her heart pounded loudly in her chest, she aimed for the base of the light beam before firing her last round.

An explosion of light erupted in the Cargo bay, sending a blinding flash through the darkness as shards of glass and metal rocketed in all directions. Wesker recoiled in shock, momentarily stunned as the deadly fragments sliced into his face and Alice didn’t hesitate to take advantage of his distraction by leaping to the side and making an all or nothing dash for the sword. Relying purely on memory once more, she jumped over her replica’s body before throwing her hand out in a desperate grab for the weapon, her heart jumping in excitement when she felt the metal collide heavily with her palm.

“You’ll pay for that!” Wesker growled murderously, taking his hand away from his face long enough to turn to where he knew his prey would be. He didn’t know why she hadn’t fled the ship, and in truth he didn’t care. All he cared about now was making the bitch pay for what she had done to his face and with murderous intent he advanced just as Alice swung the sword. Too late, he realised the danger when the shimmer of sharpened steel slashed across his throat and laid his neck open all the way to the bone.

“That was for you Carlos.” Alice said, watching victorious as Wesker clutched at his open throat in an effort to stop the blood flow before dropping his gun and falling to the ground in a steadily growing pool of bloodied muck.

Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, she felt her knees give way and she collapsed weakly as her body began to tremble with happy sobs. It was finally over.

                                                                            Chapter Two

                                                                         The Graveyard

…Six months later

In the late hours of the Alaskan afternoon, the rolling waters of the Bering Sea were reflected as a deep Carolina blue. A marginal sea in the northern Pacific Ocean, the Bering stretched for over 770000 square miles from the northern borders of Asia all the way up to the costs of Northern Alaska and had been considered by many to be some of the most traitorous waters on the planet. Ravaged by impossibly strong currents that were made permanently ferocious by washing through its sixteen submarine canyons, the waters of this dreadful expanse of ocean had tossed and turned many of the floating wind-ships which had drifted into its tides over the centuries and the seasonal arrival of pack ice and bergs in autumn had made it a constant danger for any vessel carless enough to run astray.

Squinting through the clear fibreglass, Alice watched bemusedly as far below walls of white capped water rocked the sea. It was only May but already the approaching summer tides were rolling the sea to a violent shade of grey and she couldn’t help but be thankful she’d decided to make the journey to Arcadia by air instead of sea. After all the trouble she’d gone through to take revenge on Umbrella, it just wouldn’t do for her to drown in a summer storm.

A metallic sputtering that sounded ominously like bolts falling into a blender suddenly roared over the bellowing wind, draw her attention back to the plane’s controls, to her dismay the needle on fuel gauge was poised over Empty. With a minor note of irritation, she took one had off the stick and reached back to the rear of the cabin where a pair of auxiliary fuel tanks had been jerry rigged to the engine. After a moment spent twisting the valves, the reserve aviation fuel flowed into the injection system and it hummed into life.

With the engine now purring like a kitten, she turned back to the instrument panel, her gaze lingering for a moment on the compass and directional Gyro before she checked her position on the set of navigational charts and maps she had arranged around the cabin.

‘Not long now…’ She thought, more than a little relieved by the dwindling distance, before looking to the video camera which had been mounted on the top of the panel. The light on its side was blinking and instead of green, it was showing up as a danger orange, the battery was almost dead and had switched to standby mode to conserve power. ‘Better make this short.’ With a sigh, she activated the flight recorder.

“May 3rd, 1600 hours. It has now been A hundred and seventy-seven days without any signs of life. I’m at 58.37 degrees north, 134.58 degrees west and am now closing in on the coordinates for Arcadia, but there are no signs of it on any of the maps…” She hesitated; afraid to continue for fear that her doubts might be given life by her words. “Something doesn’t feel right, but I don’t know what and I can only hope that Claire and the others made it.”

Turning the camera off with a hint of apprehension darkening her features, Alice cast her gaze up at the cockpit’s screens to watch as the distant white-capped peaks of the Alaskan mountains darkened the horizon. Already clumps of thick ice had begun to appear dotted about the Bering and as she drew nearer the cost, great bergs rose up from the sea’s depths to form unbreakable roofs above the rolling tides that survived both Alaskan summer and winter.

For over 500miles, the untamed wilderness of Alaska’s south western region was a combination of thick boreal forests, steep outcroppings and deep water lakes. Forever in the shadow of the great mountain chains which encircled the state, it was scarcely populated and offered few sanctuaries to travellers from the dangers of its hollowing northern winds and hungry bear population.

Trying to conserve the little fuel she had left, Alice flew the Fuji T-7 up at such an angle that it could be caught and carried by the passing thermals while she observed the varied geography of the world beneath her. She kept going along the coast until mathematically she would have been on top of the coordinates the recording gave, but there was just one problem…

There wasn’t any sign of Arcadia.

Cursing under her breath; she pulled back on the stick and brought the plane around in a curving arc before taking it down for a closer look. The terrain here was rugged with little to see but brown grassland and an occasional clumping of dead trees, but holding steady at 50metres, she could now make out an unusual cluster of landmarks that were gathered together about half a mile from the oceans lapping grey waters. Curious, she circled the site once before taking the plane in for landing.

Keeping the wings level, she lined the aircraft up for her angle of approach and began her descent. Rocked by suddenly fierce winds, the plane began to shake violently as it cut across the airwaves and with her heart aflutter, it took all of Alice’s efforts to maintain the correct airspeed and keep the Fuji levelled out. It was a hair-raising experience and despite her naturally stock expression, inside her mind was abuzz with panic as she desperately tried to calculate these new developments into her timing.

Feeling her stomach lurch as the ground hurried up to meet her, she lowered the flaps before jerking the controls back to compensate for the added drag. The engine stalled when the wheels touched down, the reassuring jolt of touchdown throwing her back into her seat and she couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief. Far from a seasoned pilot, she had only attempted a hand full of landing and this was certainly the first without a tarmacked road or runway to great her approach. It was an invigorating feeling to know her skills were improving.

She let the plane roll to a stop before unbuckling her pilot’s harness and pushing back the fiberglass canopy. A cold breeze howled overhead but she ignored it as she swung her leg over the canopy and stepped on the wing. Dressed in a battered brown leather flyer’s jacket with a fur trimmed collar and matching set of cowgirl boots and trousers, she was relatively well protected against the cold as the wind’s cold tendrils people whipped locks of her auburn hair across her face. Yet as relieved as she was to be out of the insufferably cramped cockpit, her pretty face remain contorted with a look of scorn as she took in the space around her with adamant distaste.

Everywhere she looked, there was aircraft. Aligned all around her as if they were children’s toys, the randomised mix of planes and helicopters stretched almost as far inland as her eyes could see. If it were not for their varying states of disrepair, Alice might have thought she had landed in the heart of some great, but primitive, airfield. Yet as it was, the open stretch of grassland appeared more befitting of the term junkyard, or a graveyard.

“So this is Arcadia?” She observed, her eyebrow rising with as she looked from one beaten up wreck to the next and tried to calculate just how many people had beaten her to what they hoped would be their last chance for salvation. There had to of been many, hundreds, maybe even thousands of refugees. But what could have happened to of made them all disappear? Had something dreadful happened, or perhaps they had grown tired of waiting for a hope that would never come and returned to the nomadic life of survivors on the run.

A frown formed across her lips as with a resigning shrug, she jumped down from the plane’s wing and began to scout the area for signs which might tell her what had happened here. There wasn’t much, aside from the occasional discarded food wrapper the vehicles’ interiors had been picked clean and Alice was left to wander the deserted grasslands in silent contemplation until she heard a frenzy of whispered mutterings on the wind.

“Hello…” She called out, her hand immediately reaching beneath her jack for the holstered gun on her belt as she awaited the reply. Although she didn’t particularly want to shoot any survivors, since the decay of civilization, banditry had become as common a danger along the road as that posed by the infected and she couldn’t help noticing how perfect this place was for an ambush. With so much cover to hide behind, even a half-witted gang could set up an effective enough ambush for whoever came to answer the radio message and she had no intention of being caught unawares like that time back in Nevada.

Her voice carried well on the wind, but there was no answer to be heard as the whispers continued. Although little more than murmurs, she could make out snippets of what was being said and thought it might have been a man’s voice, strangely he seemed to repeating himself and Alice, growing concerned, drew the heavy barrel of her 44.Magnum from its holster before following the murmuring.

Keeping her eyes peeled for any signs of movement as she progressed cautiously through the maze of Aircrafts, Alice did her best to remain cool despite the erratic dumbing of her heart. She was getting close, so close in fact that the voice almost seemed to be whispering in her ear and as she passed a crack in the wrecked hull of a weather beaten DC-3 Transport plane, it bellowed out at her in a way that made her heart miss a beat. Whirling about, she thrust the revolver through the crack, her finger perched on the tightly wound trigger as if she were expecting something horrible to lurch out of the darkness to claim her life at any moment.

There was nothing there however and she gave her heart a moment to calm before lowering the heavy side-arm as she bent forward and climbed carefully through the crevice and into the blackness of the plane’s interior.  It was dark inside and her eyes struggled to adjust to the low light and could only just make out the metal ribcage of the roof above.

She must have entered the cargo hold because she could just make out a flight of steps ascending to the cockpit. The voice was coming from there so, aided only by the intricate web of light that filtered in through the tiny cracks in the transport plane’s hull; she made straight for the source of the continued muttering and ran up the stairs with one hand on the railing, the other holding the magnum before her. The stairwell had grown flimsy with rust and her heavy footfalls made it shake violently as she took the footing two at time.  Fortunately for her, the door to the control room had been left ajar so she needn’t worry about the structure collapsing as she delivered a forward kicked to the barrier and burst inside.

The words were blaring out inaudibly now but the cockpit was empty and judging by the thick sheet of dust covering the monitors and control panels, it had been for some time. The windows were dirty but they gave her just enough light to see that A digital recorder had been set up across the instrument panels, its display blinking in  an attempt to bypass its remaining power to whatever systems were still running. Her brow furrowing in confusion, Alice lowered her gun and gave the recorder the once over before idly pushing buttons until she found what she was looking for. With a low whistle, the device began refining its audio until it reached a level she could understand and then began to play.

“This is Arcadia, broadcasting on the emergency frequency at location, 114.08 degrees longitude, 51.08 degrees latitude. There is no infection. We offer safety and security, food and shelter. I Repeat…there is no infection. You are not alone.”

Realisation struck Alice like a bolt of lightning and a look of undisguised horror masked her features as stepped back, visibly stricken. This was it, this was what had brought so many people to one of the farthest corners of the world, this is what had given all her friends hope and then ad revealed them to be a hollow shell.

She didn’t bother to wonder who had put it there or why. As far as she was concerned, whatever it had sought to offer had expired long ago, there was no point keeping it active and in her rage, she raised the gun and squeezed the trigger. The recorder exploded but she didn’t stop there and Alice kept firing until the wheel had run dry and the instrument panel resembled a slab of Swiss cheese.


Exiting the plane, Alice continued her search until she reached what looked like the edge of the graveyard and heard the gentile lapping of waves on a beach bank.

After the ominous quite of the Aircraft graveyard, the rolling grey waters of the Bering were a welcoming sight and Alice felt her heart jump as walking through a clumping of dead conifers, she spotted an all too familiar Umbrella helicopter perched in the dirty brown sand.

With its black armour marred by a score of dents and scratches and a thick inlay of rust covering its rotors, the Helicopter looked considerably more beaten than she remembered.  She walked around the aircraft once, scrutinizing it closely before climbing through the open cabin door. She’d hoped to find a clue to the disappearance of her friends but tight confines of the ships inner belly were reluctant to give her anything other than the long dried bloodstains left by Dr Isaacs during his escape from the Las Vegas ruin just eighteen months before.

The rear of the cabin was empty, even the cushions from the seats had been removed, so she leaned through the void between the pilots’ chairs in search of the flight recorder. It was gone, ripped from the control panel along with anything else that might have given her the clues she needed. Dismayed, she drew back and was about to leave the derelict aircraft when she caught sight of something lying half hidden beneath the co-pilot’s chair.

It looked like a book and curious, she reached down carefully to retrieve it, being mindful as she did of any indications that it might be rigged or booby-trapped. Nothing seemed odd so she brought it into the light and found, to her surprise, that it was the notebook she’d handed to the girl K-mart at the end of their last meeting. Bringing the heavy tome up to eyelevel, she remembered the distressed look that had flooded the teen’s pretty face as she jammed the book into her hands. The truth was always hard on the young and she’d asked hopefully for Alice to come with them, after seeing how card it had been for K-mart to bear, she hadn’t had the heart to tell her they’d probably never see each other again.

Feeling her heart start to race, she began flicking through the familiar pages of the journal that had been taken over by newspaper cuttings and geographical mappings until she finally came to a handful of pages towards the back which had been taken over by scribbled scriptures that she recognised as being K-mart’s writing.

The girl had documented the journey in impressive detail. It had been dangerous; they’d had to stop many times in search of fuel and supplies and as a result, a trip which should have taken just a few weeks had been stretched into months. Yet as she drew to the end, something about the inscriptions began to change and she could almost hear K-mart’s cheery voice whispering the last sentence on the page.

‘We are here, Arcadia…at last…’ Smiling a bemused smile as she imagined the charismatically cheery girl’s delight at the thought of their journey being over, Alice turned the page expectantly; only to find it blank, except for a hurried scribble in the lowest corner. ‘…Something’s not right.’

Unsatisfied, she thumbed through the remaining pagers but found them to be completely blank. No messages detailing where they might have gone or clues for to piece together, it was as if they had simply vanished into thin air like everyone else who had come to Arcadia in search of salvation.

Growling in frustration, she slammed the book shut and shoved it inside one of the inside pockets of her jacket before jumping down from the helicopter and made her way across the beach to the sea’s rolling grey bank. Even in spring, the waters of the Bering were freezing and she could feel the chill of the surf rolling over her boots as she walked heatedly through the sloshing tide until finally she came to the decaying remnants of a water-soaked log which must have been washed up on the stronger winter tides that had been battering the Alaskan coast.

The sky was darkening, the setting sun turning the sky an ominous slate grey as immense clouds blotted out its weak light. It wouldn’t be long before night set in and feeling her anger ebb like the waves at her feet, Alice decided to take care of the last bit of business and reached into one of the larger of her flight jacket’s pockets to pull out a small digital recorder.

Balancing the recorder on a thick branch, she flicked through the settings before setting it to record. As the small red light flicked to life, she scouted down to sit atop the damp bark and began to recite the words which had been weighing so heavily on her heart.

“May 3rd, 19.30 hours, Arcadia. I have followed the recording’s direction north to the shores of Alaska and found that no such place exists. There is just a field crowded with ghosts, and a beach.” She exhaled deeply, her eyes drifting back across the beach to the helicopter and then to the graveyard. “I have found Claire’s helicopter but there is no sign of her or the others. I have no idea what they found here but we all heard the transmissions and I have found the source of the message. Someone must have sent them. Someone must have wanted to bring all these people here for a reason. But why? And where did they all go?”

The question echoed in the air, taunting her mercilessly before mingling with the drumming of the tide on the shore and evaporating into nothing. This place reeked of death; there was nothing left for her here except the howl of the whistling wind and the whispers of long dead ghosts. With her hear sinking, Alice rose up from her perch on the damp and gave the darkening one last contemplating stare before turning back to the recorder. “Day 177…signing off.” But as she reached for the terminating switch, her fingers slipped and thoughts she’d tried so hard to suppress suddenly spilled from her lips in a rush of hidden emotion. “And…I don’t know if I can do this much longer.”

It was hard to deny she was growing tired, tired of being alone, tired of never having anyone to confide in, and tired of always being the sole survivor. In those few invigorating months of hunting for and purging Umbrella’s compounds, when she’d been  surrounded by her clones, she had never had to suffer the bitter taste of solitude and she’d grown to enjoy the sense of companionship she shared with Gama, Beta and all the rest. But now they were all dead and even the solitude she’d once enjoyed seemed to have abandoned her.

“What if I’m the last? What if there is no one left? No one left to watch these tapes and learn from my mistakes?” The words were as frightening to her as the judging silence and she felt hot tears welling up inside before she could stop herself. “Is this my punishment for letting all this happen when I could have stopped it so long ago?” Overwhelmed, a single tear began to roll down her check, just as she a faint prickling sensation cropping across her shoulders. Recognising the feeling, she swung around and looked across the beach in time to see an illusive figure disappearing into the undergrowth.

Forgetting the camera, Alice jumped to her feet and took off at a run. Not daring to believe her eyes, she charged full out across the surf battered beach, her heavy boots splashing loudly in the rolling surf before she ascend to the drier sands and then to the dead, brown grass at the mouth of the trees. Clouded in shadow, she could just make out the fleeting figure darting between the trees like some elusive forest spirit and didn’t give a moment’s pause before plunging into the trees.

In desperation, she moved without restraint or caution and paid mind only to the protruding roots of trees which stretched up from the earth like the arms of hell, reaching up to claim her and drag her down to that fiery underworld. High above, dying branches plumed by dry brown foliage formed a dense canopy that blotted out the sun’s waning light, casting her into an eerie gloom which only grew worse as she pressed on at speeds that were unwise. She didn’t care about the danger, or the thorny shrubbery plucking at her clothes; all she cared about was reaching whoever it was. After being alone for so long, she couldn’t afford to let this chance slip through her fingers.

It was getting harder to see in the gloom but with her chances of catching the fleeting shadow already dropping, she didn’t dare slow.  Instead, she ran and ran, until the dense wall of trees all around her suddenly fell away and she was thrust into a blinding well of light. Blinded by the brightness as her eyes struggled to adjust, Alice almost fell head over heels in her rush to stop and narrowly missed colliding with an abandoned land cruiser.

Coming to a halt and using a raised arm for cover, she gave her eyes a moment to become accustom to the painful glare before lowering the limb to find that she had emerged from the trees at the edge of the graveyard. To her dismay, there was no trace of her quarry and, to make matters worse, she didn’t recognise the part of the site she’d emerged on. It was going to take some time for her to work her way back to her plane and it was unlikely she’d do so before dark.

Aggravated by this cruel twist of fate, Alice couldn’t resist giving the discarded truck she had nearly crashed into a good kick. A dent appeared in the side of the door as the sole of her boot hit it with a satisfying clunk, yet the blow caused her foot to explode with a painful sensation and she couldn’t help cursing under her breath as she limped back a step. Clearly, she was still trying to come to terms with her renewed human limitations.

After her bitter disappointment on the beach and then to come so close, only to have her hopes dashed once again, well this fresh anti-climax was hard to swallow and she thought she might just slip into a great black well of despair. To console herself, she tried to make herself believe that she had heard was probably just the wind in the trees or the overcurious nature of a skittish deer, anything to keep her from believing the obvious truth that whispered in the dark corners of her mind; she was an outcast, a shunned freak of humanity…

In her distressed state, she almost didn’t hear a fallen twig snapping underfoot and wheeled about just in time to see something exploding out of the undergrowth. It was huge, whatever it was, and barrelling towards her with such haste that Alice scarcely had a moment before it was upon her. She tried to dive out of its path but it was too fast and hit her head on, knocking the breath from her as she was pitched back and together they went flying.

She wasn’t sure how far she went but to say her landing was rough would have been the understatement of the century and she did cartwheels across the stone laden ground before rising up with both hands poised over her guns. Infected or not, her reflexes were sharper than any knife and she tugged both of her magnum revolvers from their leather confines before whirling around to face her new adversary with both pistols drawn and levelled. Only when she saw it, she was sure she was going to need something bigger, ‘Like a Bazooka…’

It was a bear, but not just any bear; it was the largest fucking Kodiak bear she’d ever seen. Already up and standing high on its hind legs, it towered over her like the biblical character goliath and she didn’t need the likes of Sir David Attenborough to tell her that this large male was in his prime. With a thick brown pelt and paws that were larger than sledge hammers, even the obvious signs of malnutrition couldn’t shatter this leviathan’s air of invincibility. But maybe a couple of her Magnum shells could get the job done.

The guns were heavy under the weight of the fully loaded cylinder so to lighten the load; she fired a quick volley that exploded into the creature’s hide. There was no point trying to negotiate, like the lions of the Salvo River, Kodiaks were very dangerous beasts at the best of times but a hungry bear would eat anything it could find and last she looked, she was the only thing in the area that was on the menu. However the shots seemed not to register with the bear as it gave a bellowing roar before swiping at her with its massive paw.

It was swifter than something of its size should have been and eyes coming alive with the danger, she only just lurched backward in time to avoid the bear’s bone shattering left hook. Passing within millimetres of her, the claw appendage narrowly missed taking her eye out and she only had time enough to fire off a shot that passed harmlessly over its shoulder before she was forced to move. Crashing down on all fours, it came after her with a thunderous fury that made the ground shake and she had just enough time to dive under the nearby truck before it was upon her.

Looking back frantically as she crawled into the semi darkness and took shelter beneath the derelict 4X4, Alice watched as the frenzied bear flattened itself to the ground before it began pawing the earth in an attempt to reach her. Its immense claws tearing great trenches through the layers of leaves and dirt until the task appeared to grow too strenuous for the starving beast and it gave up, favouring instead to smash the truck with its heavy hide in an ill-conceived attempt to tip the vehicle over.

Unfortunately the math of the matter wasn’t on her side, so with both .44s still clasped tight, she began to shuffle through the crawl space towards the light. It was a tight squeeze but as it was still furiously pounding against the stubbornly rooted truck, the bear failed to notice her leaving so she scurried beneath the automobile like a mouse in its tunnel. Immerging in the dirt on the far side, she took a quick nerve steadying breath before darting up and in one smooth motion; she turned and levelled her guns at the beast’s bared flank while firing a blazing salvo of hot lead. As the revolvers jumped in grasp, the rounds slammed loudly into the animal’s side, penetrating what should have been its heart and lungs.

Yet again the beast seemed not to feel her assault, in fact the blasts seemed only to invigorate the raging Kodiak as it turned towards her and lashed out with a sweeping blow of its paw that caught her in the chest before she could react and sent her hurtling through the air once more. For a horrifying moment she was trapped in free fall, scarcely conscious, it was an effort for her just to keep a firm grasp on her arsenal but when she crashed into something hard, her mind went blank and she let go of the magnums whilst being sucked into an impenetrable abyss.

It must have been the pain that caused her to awaken, for as she blinked past the first wave of nauseating sickness she became aware of a very pronounced stabbing pain in her side and realised that the bear’s oversized paw must have bruised a few of her ribs. A resounding thud announced approaching danger and she looked up to find to her horror that the massive beast was coming towards her, and that she was unarmed.

Half dazed, she whipped her head around and began looking drunkenly for her revolvers. Only one was still loaded and what good that would do her was debateable, but she wasn’t about to die while there was still a chance.

She didn’t need to see it to know the bear was coming closer; its heavy bulking was all but shaking the ground with every foot fall and its musky odder of death and dirt was infecting her every breath like a sensory toxin. There could be no escape now; if she failed to find her loaded weapon then the beast would devour her, she’d have to kill it or die trying; those were her only options.

Then she saw it, one of her magnums laying not a metre from her at the base of a dead tree. She couldn’t tell if it was the one she needed or not but the odds were even, it was a chance she’d have to take. So she reached out.

The gun was just out of reach and seemed to be taunting her limited reach with a dazzling shine that gleamed bright against the dark soil. With her heart racing, she could almost feel the bear’s weight bearing down on her but she would not give up and so she began to crawl. It was only a small gap between her and it but the effort it cost her was gargantuan and she felt as if she had in fact struggled for over a mile before the chilled metal touched her fingertips.

The Magnum felt heavy in her hands as she grappled for it but her dazed memory couldn’t recall if it was the weight of a gun that was loaded or not. It was hard to so she used both hands to scoop the revolver up before whirling about to level the gun at the beast. And there the bear was. It stood at her feet, impossibly large and ferocious as it bared its yellow fangs and roared a terrible sound of coming death.

“Eat this!” She cried angrily before pulling her finger tight around the trigger. The hammer fell and a plume of smoke burst from the silver barrel as it bucked in her grasp, a heavy calibre round exploding forth to slam into the back of the Bear’s throat. Tearing through flesh and bone, an explosion of bloody gore erupted from the back of its skull as the bullet destroyed the bear’s brains and then it fell dead at her feet with nothing but a weak grunt escaping its gapping muzzle.

Watching as the once mighty beast crashed to the ground, Alice felt a feeling of momentous relief swell up inside her and she stared down grimly at the animal’s decapitated corpse. Yet death seemed to have robed the beast of its majesty and she couldn’t help but note the great clumps of fur that were missing from its blood matted pelt. Her curiosity got the better of her.

Crouching over the remains, she contemplated the corpse for a moment before reaching down and running her fingers through its coarse fur. Like much that her life had become, killing the bear had brought Alice no pleasure but doing so was a grim necessity. She’d had no choice so now looked on the task the same way she had done when putting down the infected or eliminating Umbrella’s pawns; unpleasant but vital. To her surprise, the fur came away at her fingers to reveal the black skin beneath and at least a half a dozen open wounds that had not been made by gunshots. The injuries weren’t fresh but they were still weeping gore and at a closer look, she could clearly see that the blood was coagulated. This bear had been dead long before it found Alice.

‘Free of Infection huh…’ She thought bitterly before recoiling from the infected corpse. After so much disappointment, she shouldn’t have been surprised that another of the recordings claims had been proven false. Everywhere had once been free of the T-Virus, but time had seen to changing that and now the entire earth was slowly dying under its influence. Yet the discovery still brought a bitter taste to her mouth and she knew immediately that the time to leave this place had come. The bear was only the first, more and more infected would be coming here over the next few days and she had no desire to be around when they arrived.

Quickly collecting her lost magnum and shoving them both back into their holsters, she was about to head back to her plane when she caught sight of something shining bright on the 4X4’S dashboard. She knew it would be stupid to delay, there was still much she had to do before take-off  and now there wasn’t a moment too lose. Yet whatever it was inflamed her curiosity and she couldn’t resist the mystery of discovery as she walked over to the truck to find it was nothing but a cup filled with small change for meters and the likes.

Alice couldn’t help smiling as she scooped up a handful of coins and then let them slip through the gaps and rain back down into the cup. This was the best piece of news she’d had all day and she didn’t hesitate to pick the container up and pour its contents into another of her jacket pockets. She then discarded the polystyrene cup and turned just in time to catch sight of the fist that slammed into her face.

Maybe she was still dazed; maybe it was because she hadn’t had a decent meal in over a fortnight, either way this new assailant’s blow cracked against her jaw before she could evade it and was so powerful she was thrown off her feet. Clattering to the ground, she narrowly missed cracking her head on the truck’s axle but before she had a chance to gather her wits, her attacker was on her. The flash of steel was her only warning, a dagger, an axe, a sword; her mind couldn’t discern the danger’s nature, all she knew was it had a point that was hurtling towards her throat. In desperation she does the first thing that comes to mind and thrusts her hands up, catching the assailant’s wrists just before the weapon could open her jugular.

It took all her strength to hold the blade at bay, the steel’s sharpened tooth hanging over the soft skin of her throat with a thirst for blood that could rival even the hunger of the infected. Still weak from the bear attack, it was only Alice’s will to survive that gave her the strength to keep fighting. And what will she had, for despite the overwhelming might behind the cold blade, she began to push up, forcing her adversary back and she seized the moment to look passed the tooth of steel to her assailant. The figure, despite all evidence to the contrary, was surprisingly skinny but cloaked in shadow as they were, it was impossible for her to make out anything distinctive except an unrecognisably feral pair of pale blue eyes.

She needed to end this and seizing her chance, Alice gave a deafening roar of pain before curling her lower back forward and kicking the shadowy figure in the side. There was a loud crack as the tip of her boot connected with ribs and in a mix of surprise and pain; it abandoned its attack to tumble back.

Rolling to her feet, her hand was halfway to the holstered magnum before she remembered that she had decided against reloading the revolvers, a decision she was already regretting, and so was forced to remain unarmed when her aggressor came at her again. Fast and light, the figure circled her once before exploding forward in an explosion of rage. The blade shimmered bright silver in the darkening twilight and Alice only had a moment to step aside before would have been plunged into her gut. Whirling, she countered with a right hook that slammed hard against her assailant’s jaw.

Stumbling back, it lost its footing and collided with the truck, hitting their head on the side mirror as they went, before collapsing to the ground; unconscious and down for the count.

With her muscles aflame from exhaustion, there was nothing Alice would have liked more than to curl into a ball and rest however she wanted to know what, or indeed who, had attacked her. Grimly staring down at the dirty, rag clad figure, she was surprised to find that her assailant was actually a woman but a mane of tangled lustreless brown hair hid her face.  Half expecting the woman to suddenly awake and attack her again at her moment, Alice took in a quick breath before kicking the wickedly curved knife from the savage’s grasp and then bowed over the sleeping form to brush aside the matted locks and reveal the peacefully sleeping face of Claire Redfield.

Her breath catching at the sight of her friend’s dirty face, Alice fell to her knees and began to silently weep with joy. Despite the outlandishness of the circumstances, she couldn’t help but a feel an overwhelming sense of relief for having found the convoy leader; at last she wasn’t alone.

The shrill song of a raven rang out in the distance, awakening her from the pool of emotion and bringing her back to the present. Remembering where she was, she took one last lingering look at the darkening horizon and then dropped her sights back to the still sleeping Claire; trying to estimate just how long it would take her to carry the unconscious woman back to her plane. It would be a hard journey and she’d have to move fast if she wanted to have any light left to search by, so bending down, she hooked her arms beneath Claire’s and began to lift; only to catch sight of something beneath the folds of her dirty rags.

It wasn’t much, merely a red tinge beneath the remnants of her tank top, but against her pale skin it glowed like a scarlet ruby on a snow blanketed field. However, before she could investigate further, the peacefully sleeping Claire jerked against her touch and the tattered garments fell open slightly to reveal what lay beneath. Alice felt a sickening lurch in her stomach as she took the sight in; there was a device which reminded her of the mythological Scarab bugs of Ancient Egypt stapled to the centre of her chest. Barely larger than a man’s hand and held in place by six wickedly sharp talons that had bored beneath her skin, the device had a bright red casing that did nothing to hide the inner mechanics  of a vile, filled with a pale blue liquid, being injected into its host’s veins.

Recalling a similar set of operations performed by Umbrella Scientists, Alice had no trouble concluding that this evil looking machine was the cause of her friend’s potently lethal hostility and accelerated strength and that it needed to be removed before she did anything else. The only question was how?


With a scrutinizing gaze that missed nothing, Alice studied the bug shaped injector to the point of delirium. It was dark now and she only had the flickering light of her camp’s fire to aid her, but her curiosity was insatiable and this device was fascinating. It reminded her vaguely of the face hugging life forms from the horror film series Alien that would infect a victim with the Alien’s embryo while feeding him whatever he needed to stay alive. Unfortunately it seemed that unlike the face hugger, this device was not designed to deactivate once it had made first impregnation and had only shut off once she had managed to remove it from the sleeping Claire. To her annoyance, its deactivation had somehow neutralised whatever was inside the vile, preventing her from discovering whatever it was that had been poisoning Claire. She could only hope that the effects would wear off now that the injector had been removed.

Compelled by interest, she never looked up from the gadget in her hands until she heard the faint rustle of movement above the fire’s crackling song and immediately turned her attention across the camp to where she’d chained the sleeping Claire. Having not been interested in another fight after carrying the unconscious woman over her shoulder for what felt like miles, she’d taken advantage of her complacency to securely tie her to the landing gear of her plane. It may have been somewhat unconventional, but Alice liked it much better than the alternative and at least this way she didn’t have to worry about her throat being slit while she slept.

There was a moment of tense anticipation as the infected woman’s dozy eyes flickered open and Alice felt her heart flutter with delight when she thought she saw a spark of recognition light up her pale blue irises; but then it was lost in a flood of feral emotions and she began tugging at her chains with an urgent frenzy in a desperate bid to get free.

Alice watched her friend’s struggles with a pitying gaze, wondering as she did what could have happened to her friend? What could turn a person as decisive and action orientated as Claire Redfield, into a wild savage; it shouldn’t have been possible and yet her they were. She only hoped there was enough of who she used to be left to save.

“Hey…Hey…” She finally said, “It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you.” She tried to sound soothing however the sight of her seemed only to agitate the bound woman further and her struggles seemed only to intensify as Alice slowly lowered herself down to her captive’s level.

Not wanting to agitate her delirious friend any more than she had to, Alice just smiled warmly as she waited for the woman to relax in her presence. It took some minute but eventually Claire began to relax and let her arms go slack in their bonds, but her eyes continued to burn furiously as she glared up at her jailor with obvious mistrust. Clearly she hadn’t forgotten their earlier meeting but Alice refused to let it get her down a. s she directed her gaze towards the fresh set of puncture marks that adorned her friend’s chest.

“Yea, look I’m sorry about that,” Alice confessed, sincere in her apologies as the woman realised what she meant and turned down to look at the open wounds that had been left by the Scarab’s anchoring talons. She had done what she could to treat the injuries but they had still reddened and were blistering painfully. “But I had to get this thing off of you and that was the only way.”

Watching Claire’s reaction with a scrutinizing eye, she brought the Scarab up into the light and held it out to her in offering. For a moment, the bound woman only looked blankly at the device, but then a spark of recognition lit up her eyes with fright and she began pulling at her bonds again in an ill thought out escape attempt. So she did recognise something.

“What is this? Who did this to you? Where are the others?” She asked, unable to keep the sense of urgency from her voice. Yet Claire only looked up at her blankly, there was no sign of recognition or even understanding as her eyes darted from Alice to the Scarab as she bore her teeth in a feral threat. It was as though she were a dog that had been backed into a corner by a pair of thugs and was now preparing to defend itself. “Do you even know who I am?” There was no response, only a malevolent stare that made Alice glad looks could not kill and in resignation she decided it was time to go to plan B.

Rising to her full height, she put the scarab somewhere out of sight before climbing up into the cockpit of her plane and retrieving a bottle of water and a handful of paper tissues. Claire watched her mistrustfully, not sure what to make of the strange items the woman had produced from her dirty brown bird so she just watched balefully as her captor soaked one of the tissues in water before leaning over her. She thrashed violently when the sodden fabric touched her skin, but Alice didn’t relent and instead she began wiping away the mixture of blood and dirt that masked the face of the woman beneath.

It required a lot of patents on Alice’s part but after a few moments, Claire’s struggles ceased and she felt a great surge of elation at the realisation that her plan was working.

“My name is Alice,” She said, in an almost offhand fashion while dabbing at a particularly stubborn mark across her friend’s brow. “We meet in the Nevada desert eighteen months ago. You were the leader of a convoy of survivors searching for a safe haven and you came here by Helicopter when we heard radio messages about a place called Arcadia.” Using a dry tissue to quickly add the finishing touches, she couldn’t help quirking her eye brow as she took in the startling transformation that had taken place before her with just a few pieces of cloth and some water.

Not wanting to undo the vital progress she’d just made with more questions, Claire forwent the interrogation and discarded the soiled fabrics before taking a swig from the bottle of water. Taking one last look at her captive, Alice was surprised to see an almost look in Claire’s eyes. Quickly realising what she wanted, she held the bottle to her friend’s lips and tilted it slightly so that she could drink.

“Well, at least we’re making progress.”


 After the frozen veldts and howling winds of Alaska, the western coasts of Canada were a godsend for Alice. The skies were heavy with grey, rain laden clouds and the waters battered the spectacular coastline with violent swells of white surf, but at least it wasn’t quite so cold.

Soaring as low as they were over the roaring waters of the Pacific, she was content after a turbulent morning to just watch the white capped swells of dark water crash against the brilliantly carved cliff faces that rose almost 100metres above the rolling costal depths. Indeed, this was the first part of her day that had gone according to plan.

Waking before dawn, she had hoped to of taken flight at sunrise but a quick inspection of revealed that under the new circumstances, they’d have run out of fuel before they even reached the boundaries of Sitka. In desperation, she’d spent the following hours scavenging the graveyard and siphoning off all the good grade fuel she could find until the tanks were full and only then could they finally could take off. After that had followed a bitter hour of battling ferocious winds as they flew above the Alaskan Gulf and its encircling coastline.

For what it was worth, she seemed to be making good time, already they had ventured into Canadian airspace and she had high hopes to be verging on what remained of California before nightfall. However the day was drawing on and with the surrounding storm clouds promising trouble ahead, she decided to take advantage of this brief moment of clarity to update her flight log and she turned her sights on the mounted camera.

“May 4th, 12.00 Hours. Now plotting a course via Prince Rupert and British Columbia down to Vancouver and then, if our luck holds, Seattle. After that, it’s on to San Francisco and the rest of the western seaboard.” Glancing back over her shoulder, she looked to the rear of the cabin and was unsurprised to find Claire where she had left her, jammed between two fuel tanks in the rear of the cabin. Her hands were still securely tied but after the late night wash and a changing those rags for a set of clothes that Alice had found while rummaging through some of the cars for anything they could use, she was starting to look more like the Claire Redfield she remembered. “My passenger is still as talkative as ever. She seems to be making progress but seems has no idea who I am. Whatever that thing attached to her chest was; it has completely wiped her memory. She doesn’t remember who did this to her or what became of Kmart and the others. I only hope that the effects are not permanent.” She ended the log entry without another word.

With her attention torn between watching the gathering storm clouds on the horizon and monitoring the control panel, the day seemed to pass by in moments and it wasn’t long before Alice was searching the landscape for a place to land. By her calculations they were flying along a stretch of coastline that was somewhere along the border where the counties of Ventura and Los Angeles meet.

She knew it would only be a short flight to the greater city area of Los Angeles, an easy enough place to find a landing spot, but the storm clouds had been growing steadily worse and she couldn’t risk going any further before night fall. Landing a plane in bad weather was one thing, but landing it in the middle of the night with no landing lights to guide her was another.

Pulling the stick around, she turned the craft inland and the roaring grey seas quickly vanished beneath the rolling hills of the Santa Monica Mountains as she searched for a landing site that wouldn’t prove fitting for the term, suicidal. Unfortunately, while the Santa Monica range might not have been the tallest of southern California’s mountain ranges, it was far from a barren plane. Stretching from the Channel Islands to over forty miles inland, the rocky peaks were more ancient than the European colonials and had formed a vast network of treacherous canyons and sedimentary outgrowths that threatened the destruction of any aircraft daring to land nearby.  To that end, after twenty minutes circling the snaring peaks, Alice had never seen a more welcome site than the U.S. Route 101.

Stretching across the dusty landscape like a great grey serpent, the 101 was the only carriageway in California that spanned the entire length of the state’s shoreline, reaching all the way from its northern coast down to the Greater Los Angeles Are, and conveniently cut straight through the Santa Monica Mountains. Smiling gratefully as she flew over the abandoned stretch of roadway and spotted a petrol station, she banked the plane hard and brought it around in preparation to land; her heart racing with terrified excitement as she aligned the aircraft with the road before taking it down.

“Hold on!” She yelled at Claire one moment before a violent jerk almost threw them both from their seats. Started, Claire lurched forward and hugged the back of the pilot’s chair in fright as the plane touched down in the centre of the 101. Fighting to remain in control, Alice felt her teeth grating as the craft jarred and bounced thrice over the sun dried tarmac before setting down and beginning to slow.

Letting out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, Alice killed the engine and waited for it to roll to a stop before unbuckling her chair’s harnesses and pushing the canopy back. Compared to the biting chill of Alaska, stepping out into the Southern California air should have been much like walking into an oven, yet there was an unseasonal chill  on the wind that made her feel uneasy. A storm was defiantly coming.

Fortunately, a curious quirk in fate had allowed them to roll to the mouth of the service stations driveway so they needn’t worry about finding shelter.  Jumping out of the cockpit on onto the wing, she turned to find her passenger still clutching the seat in a death grip, obviously not as pleased with the landing as she was. It would take a lot of coaxing to get Claire back into the plain in the morning.


The storm had arrived just before sun down. Thick grey thunderclouds that darkened the sky with an impenetrable canopy as heavy torrents of rain drenched the Santa Monica Mountains and screaming gales howled like Banshees. Safe and dry within the petrol station however, Alice could allow herself to relax. The doors were locked tight and she had set up a perimeter wire that encircled the station’s boundaries, nothing was going to come near the site without her knowing about it.

Leaning back in one of the chairs that she’d found hidden in the station’s back room, Alice tried to ignore the hate filled stare that her companion was shooting at her and instead sought to lose herself mentally in the merrily crackling fire she had ignited within a rubbish bin. Much to Claire’s contempt, she had used the pretence of making a fire to once again try and connect with her memory challenged friend, but she may as well have talked to the wall for all the good it did. Now all she did was watch her closely and with no small hint of malice, having rejected the back room’s second seat she sat cross legged on the floor with her hands still bound. A bottle of water was resting by her feet, but she would only drink from it when she was sure Alice wasn’t watching.

Tired and still aching from her confrontation with the bear the day before, she felt herself sinking into a state of sleep as she listened to the merry crackling of the fire and the rhythmic patter of rain hitting the petrol station’s roof. It was getting harder to think, harder to keep her eyes open as she watched the flames lick and dance in the low light. Darkness descended and she felt all her cares and woes leaving her and everything seemed so peaceful that she wished it could stay that way forever. She lay there for hours, carefree and blissful until she heard the ringing song of the bells she’d hung on the perimeter wire sing out.

It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head and she bolted upright, her concealed pistols already in hand and drawn. Her stomach tightened when she saw them, dozens, no hundreds, of infected, all crowding around the opposite side of her fire. There were so many, she didn’t have enough bullets to kill them all, and without even the wall of glass to defend her, she would only have time to kill a couple before they would descend upon her. But how had they have gotten in? She had been so careful, what could have gone so terribly wrong?

A pair of figures stepped out of the crowd and came around the campfire to stand before her, making Alice gasp with shock as she saw just who they were. The taller of the pair was Claire, her hands unbound with the feral madness burning bright within her eyes’ pale blue light. On her left stood K-Mart, just as young and beautiful as Alice remembered.

“Oh…My God…K-Mart what are you doing here?” Alice asked, lowering the guns as her terror became momentarily forgotten in a shock of delight at the girl’s miraculous appearance.  Then the moment was shattered as before her very eyes, the pair’s skin drew tight across their bone structure and the light of life vanished from their eyes. They were infected with the T-virus. Knowing what she had to do, Alice made to raise the guns, only her hands wouldn’t move so Claire came forward, pouncing on her like a tigress ambushing a deer, and they both went tumbling back onto the chair’s embrace…

Alice woke with a start, her heart racing as she looked up at the station’s dirt smeared ceiling and realised it had all been just a bad dream. With a guttural moan of displeasure, she made to sit up; only her arms were trapped beneath an enormous pressure and wouldn’t move. Confused, she looked down to find Claire Redfield crouched over her with a wild eyed look that was reminiscent of the one she’d held back at the airfield. She was using her knees to block her arms at her side, rendering Alice powerless as she leant forward…

…and seized her lips in a devouring kiss.

As fierce and demanding as its instigator, the kiss stole Alice’s breath away. Trapped beneath her former captive, she could neither protest nor escape and was forced to just endure the embrace with mixed feelings of brooding horror and distrust. Yet Claire took advantage of her surprise by sweeping her tongue past the barrier of her lips and feasting on her mouth’s heated cavern.

The embrace was anything but gentle and Claire eagerly pinned Alice against the chair, pushing her willowy form against her in as rush of primal passion as her tongue eagerly ran along her victim’s teeth and the roof of her mouth, seeking out  her tongue. Despite her reservations, Alice couldn’t help admiring how soft Claire’s lips felt against her own and her toes curled as a flood of wicked sensations ran hot and molten down the length of her spine when their muscles became intertwined.

Never in her life had Alice Abernathy ever experienced such passion. It was like an inferno that had been sent alight inside her, ravenous and unquenchable, it swept up everything in its path and left her swimming in a pool of exquisite ecstasy. Her protests vanished the moment their tongues touched and it suddenly didn’t matter that she wasn’t a lesbian, she only wanted to feel more of the intense sensations the kiss sent dancing along her nerves. And it was in that moment, years of pent up desire exploded to the surface.

Although she was relatively sure she had no romantic attraction to the other women, the heat that Claire was stirring in Alice’s loins made it hard for her to care as, growing tired of just being on the receiving end, she slid her leg between those of the ravenous blonde. She could feel the heat of her friend’s desire as her thigh pressed against the other woman’s covered core and couldn’t resist rubbing it, grating her strong, denim clad limb against the warmth in a back and forth motion that actually made Redfield purr against her lips.

Not to be outdone so easily by so simple a gesture however, Claire snaked her hands down between their bodies to push open the flier’s jacket and reveal the dark tank top Alice wore underneath. Feeling the swells of her prey’s bosom beneath her fingers, she reluctantly ended the kiss and drew back just enough to admire the way the cotton garment was stretched across the gorgeous woman’s torso,  struggling to contain her heavy breasts within without the aid of a bra.

Alice involuntary whimpered in protest at the loss of contact but that quickly turned into a surprised gasp as her top was suddenly pushed up to expose the pale skin of toned midriff. She shivered as the chilled night air touched her, its icy caresses causing goose bumps to spread across her milky skin as her assailant forced her bunched-up top over and past her cleavage.

Still rolling her hips against the other woman’s leg, Claire stared down at the objects of her primal desire with unmasked hunger. Perfectly rounded with a milky white completion that was accentuated wonderfully by her pert and rosy nipples, Alice’s breasts were works of perfection and as natural as they were beautiful. With this feast laid out before her, the temptation to taste one of the full orbs was too great for Claire to resist and she eagerly leaned forward to satisfy her hunger before it consumed her entirely.

“Oh Fuck!” Alice gasped as the sensation of Claire’s mouth on her breast sent a foreign jolt of pleasure rippling along her nerves and down to her burning sex. It was strange to feel another woman’s lips on her skin, strange but also wonderful and her whole body shuddered with delight when she felt her friend’s hot breath wash over her nipples.

Grinning wickedly as she watched her prey’s eyes almost roll back in pleasure, Claire leaned down and trailed her tongue around the nipple of the woman’s right breast, tracing deliciously slow circles around the aroused pebble before taking it into the hot cavern of her mouth.  Letting her hunger be her guide, she wantonly sucked and licked the hardened nub before gently catching it between her teeth and tugging it gently.

Alice gasped and moaned at the surprisingly pleasurable feeling of Redfield’s tongue teasing the tip of her captured breast one last time before she suddenly released her painfully hard teat and switched to its neglected twin; repeating her ministrations eagerly. Against her sexually tantalised flesh, Claire’s mouth felt deliciously hot and she relished in the feelings the other woman’s touch sent shooting through her breasts. It was maddening and so terrifyingly wonderful that she began to dread what might happen if she let this continue. If Claire’s mouth could feel so tantalising on her breast, how much pleasure could it bring her when she moved down to that place which just ached to be touched?

The suspense was maddening and some small part of her agitation must have shown as it wasn’t long before she felt feather light digits rolling down the flat of stomach, tickling  her senses and making her shiver with delight as they circled her belly bottom. They unfastened the bindings of her jeans in an instant and before she could utter a word of protest, had slip beneath the waistline of her underwear to find the core of her desire.

Rotating her attentions between the two glistening orbs while wantonly grinding her covered sex against the other woman’s thigh, Claire felt a primal sense of pride swelling inside of her as she felt how wet her attentions had made her lover become. Eager to continue, she teasingly traced the soft folds of her lover’s slick entrance before plunging both digits into the nectar coated channel.

Alice’s mouth fell open in a silent cry of ecstasy as she felt the spindly digits penetrate her and her legs seemed to be acting of their own accord as they spread wider, accepting the appendages all the way to the knuckles.  The Redfield’s fingers flexed inside her, probing and teasing her inner walls and coaxing a wanton moan from her lips as she reflexively rolled her hips, trying to attain more of the blissful sensation.

It had been so long since she was last touched like this; Alice wasn’t sure if what was happening was real or just some vivid fantasy conjured up by her deprived Neocortex. Her mind was fogged by lust yet at the same time her body felt as finely tuned as a razor’s edge and she could feel every minimal movement her lover made across her skin, feeding the fire that burned through her loins with all the intensity of a forest blaze. If this was a dream, it was certainly the best she had ever had.

However, before she could truly give herself over to the heinous pleasure, Claire suddenly withdrew her fingers and ceased any attention to her breasts. Disturbed by the sudden feeling of emptiness, an enraged Abernathy looked down to find the primal beauty staring up at her, her pale blue eyes ablaze with an animal hunger as she brought one glistening digit to her lips and made a show of licking it clean. The sight was erotic that Alice thought she might actually climax just from watching it.

Claire moaned audibly as her lover’s flavour danced across her taste buds. So rich but also satisfying, she thought the essence to be as intoxicating as chocolate and immediately wanted more than just that petty sample. Her appetite wetted, she didn’t hesitate to push away from the other woman and move down to perch between her spread thighs. Curling her fingers under the open waistband, she took a firm hold on Alice’s jeans and underwear and began to pull the garments down her hips. Abernathy never objected, in fact she immediately aided the blonde haired beauty by raising her hips off the seat and all she needed was one quick jerk to pull both garments down the woman’s thighs and off her body.

Alice could feel her heart racing as the few garments covering her lower body were removed to leave her completely bare from the waist down. With bated breath, she watched as her lover gazed down at her most intimate of places and felt her stomach do rolls as she suddenly leant forward. In the back of her mind, she realised that her hands were no longer restricted but the prospect of escape no longer appealed to her and she waited for what was about to pass like a virginal bride on her wedding night.

She was not disappointed.

The first touch sent a shiver of delight shooting through her and she released a shaky breath as she felt the wet tip of Redfield’s tongue brush against her clit. The contact was light and lasted for just a moment, but its aftershocks rocked her very being like the ripples of an earthquake and she trembled violently in its throws of divine ecstasy. Never had she thought sex with another woman could feel so good.

However Claire hadn’t even started to go to work on the beauty yet. Breathing in the musky sent of Abernathy’s arousal, she grabbed her lover’s hips and pulled her forward until her bottom was resting on the edge of the seat. Then, all but trembling with a hunger that made her mouth water, she lurched forward and drove her tongue deep into her depths; eagerly exploring her soft folds and drinking in the taste of her arousal as if it was sweeter than honey.

Seized by the unexpected pleasure, Alice’s eyes rolled closed and her back reflexively arched as a long moan sang from her parted lips. This was unbelievable, a page from the book of her most taboo fantasies brought to life. The delicious feeling of Claire’s wicked tongue thrashing about inside of her was like nothing any man had ever stirred within her and she relished in the feel of it.

“Oh god…your tongue…it’s so deep…more…more…” She moaned before suddenly tangling her fingers in the blonde’s dishevelled locks as she lifted her hips and strived to pull her tighter against her pulsing pelvis.

From her position between the auburn haired beauty’s thighs, Alice can only look up at her and smile inwardly; pleased with her reaction to no end. It was obvious even to those who were deaf, dumb and blind that Alice was enjoying herself, but Redfield wasn’t done with her quite yet and began swirling her tongue around the hot depths mercilessly. Circling around, herbound hands quickly found the tight mounds of Alice’s well-formed arse and she quickly used it to her advantage as twisting and turning, she ran her thick muscle around Abernathy’s tight passage and drank in every drop of her dew.

Delighting the sensation of being invaded by another woman’s tongue, Alice could almost feel her orgasm rising as the powerful muscle creased and lashed every part of her inner walls. She was so hot that there was a real danger of her melting from the pleasure Claire was conjuring within her and she held the dirty blond curls in a death grip as her assailant’s villainous tongue delved deep into her centre. Unable to speak through the pleasure, she bucked against her lover’s mouth, wantonly rolling her hips as her whole body writhed in the woman’s grasp.

She was almost there, Claire could tell from the look on Abernathy’s face that she was drawing close to the brink of an organism. The idea that she could bring such a reserved person as this Alice to such pleasurable peaks turned her on immensely and she attacked the auburn haired beauty’s sweet spot with a fresh vigour;  biting downs and gently sucking her delicate folds before abandoning them for a greater prize.

Displeased with her for ceasing her ministrations; Alice’s thighs tightened, trying to trap her in place as she struggled desperately to force the other woman’s mouth back down to its proper place. And for a moment it seemed to work, but then she felt Redfield’s strong hand’s force them open. Then a sudden shock of pleasure hit her as her counterpart’s tongue brushed the folds of her entrance to attack her clit.

“Oh my GOD! Don’t stop…don’t stop!” She begged, rolling her eyes in sheer pleasure as she felt the other woman’s lips wrapping around the tiny bud of her clitoris. There would be no mercy and white hot currents of pleasure swept through her as Redfield’s lips gently toyed with her bundle of nerves before being replaced by nipping teeth. The pleasurable agony would then be soothed by her tongue, causing exquisite sensations to sweep through belly that made Alice moan out in delirium as she felt the pleasure from Claire’s tongue, lips and teeth assaulting her most sensitive spot all at once. She thought it couldn’t get any better, and then Claire pushed two of her fingers inside. “Ahhh! I’m so hot…oh god…oh Jesus…I can’t control myself…Oh fuck me…fuck me!”

For all her physical strength and incorruptible will, Alice was completely unprepared for what was being done to her and the feeling of two of Redfield’s long, supple fingers sliding inside her, twisting and curling as they moved into her warmth, while she sucked on her clit made her almost come undone. She was in heaven and waves of pleasure crashed into her like the screaming grey swells of the Bering as she concentrated every fibre of her being on the way her lover’s curling digits explored her core’s depths, stroking the velvety softness of her inner walls in search of that one sweet spot, while trying desperately to chart the patterns that wet tongue traced across her bud.

She spread her legs wider, surrendering completely and  opening herself up to a deeper penetration that made her abandon her hold on the blonde’s as she blindly grabbed for the chair’s armrests; her knuckles already bone white as she thrashed against her lover’s mouth. All the while Claire watched her display of passion with hungry eyes, memorising every detail of the beauty’s pleasure taught features as she took the small bundle of nerves between her teeth.

It came upon her so fast, Alice never had time to utter a warning and her screams of pleasure mingled with the loud crack of splintering wood as, in the throes of white hot ecstasy, she ripped the armrests clear of the chair. Her legs encircled her lover’s head, drawing her in close and refusing to let her go as a fresh barrage of sensations bombarded her with a molten intensity. Swept away in the pleasure of her release, the world around her seemed to melt away as she was thrown from that peak and immersed in a pit of sensations that made everything else she’d experienced this night pale and cold by comparison.

Claire watched Abernathy’s release with a mixture of pride and joy and she happily drank in everything the auburn haired goddess had to give as she exploded against her lips. It was a beautiful thing; to behold another woman’s climax was as to witness the Aurora Borealis and she savoured the moment as if it were just as glorious. It was difficult to breathe, pressed so tightly against the musky scented mound but she never fought to free herself and only moved away when she felt the embrace of the other woman’s thighs come undone.

She stood up as Alice, suddenly as limp as wet straw, slumped back and slid out of the chair to lie on the dirty floor in a pool of post orgasmic bliss. For a brief moment, she was tempted to leave her like that, but the heat in her loins was making it hard for her to think beyond the realms of her own gratification and it suddenly dawned on her how turned on she had got from eating the other woman. She needed to climax, needed it the way other animals required food and if she didn’t do so soon; there was a very real chance she would go insane from the need.

Exhausted beyond measure and still reeling from the mind blowing climax, Alice felt rather than saw Claire standing before her. Her vision was blurred and she struggled to bring things into focus as she looked up at where she knew the other woman was standing. She could just see her standing there as a pale assortment of shapes, her pale alabaster skin glowing bright against the darkening light of the dyeing fire, then her vision began to return. She was surprised to find Redfield standing over her; she was even more shocked to see the skilful way her loosely bound hands were working at the button of her jeans.

The garment fell away after a moment to lie at her feet and leave her standing there bare before Abernathy’s eyes. She wanted to something, but words failed her as she saw the look of hunger that blazed so brightly within those blue orbs. The moment to act came and went and she did nothing too resist as her lover bent down and captured her lips in a devouring kiss. There was a strange flavour to the embrace, it was savoury but at the same time sweet, and it took her pleasure numbed brain a moment to realise that she could taste herself on the other woman’s lips.

They laid there together on the floor, their bodies becoming intertwined as their tongues duel before Claire suddenly broke the kiss to straddle Alice’s hips. There was no question about what she was planning and Abernathy allowed herself to be placed exactly where she wished her to be. Yet she felt an anxious breath catch in her throat when the space dividing their pussies dwindled down to mere centimetres and a long moan escaped her when Redfield suddenly ground her hips forward, pushing her slick sex against Alice’s.

It was an odd sensation, but also a pleasant one and when their clits touched, a spark of delight shot through them both like lightning bolts. Wanting more, they did what felt the most natural and began to gently rub against each other. Pleasure quickly seized them however and they started to go faster, swinging their hips to a silent beat that made their pussies grind together and sent great waves of ecstasy washing over them both. Swept up in the feverous heat and passion of this gratifying fuck, they knew it wouldn’t be long before they reached their peaks. Alice’s body was still overly sensitised from her previous orgasm and Claire had grown so aroused from devouring the delicious morsel that it might only have taken a stray blow of air to pitch her into that sea of euphoria; there was no escape from the impending climax, all they could was still back and enjoy.

“Oh God! Yes…fuck me…fuck me harder…” Alice moaned, her back arching in delight as she felt the returning heat coursing through her belly.

Claire only moaned in response, her relapsing brain still too feral to form speech, but she didn’t need to speak to understand and it was clear she understood well enough. Showing no mercy, she threw all her weight against the other girl and ground her sex hard against hers. Moaning with feverish passion, Alice just managed to keep up and together they writhed in ecstasy as they worked to ascend to the Olympian peaks of pleasure.

“Ohhh…. fuck yes….I’m…I’m getting close…..just a little…a little more…yes…yes…” Abernathy cried out, her head shaking back and forth as a wash of sheer pleasure wracked her body. She was getting close, so close that every minimal movement against her clit caused her to shiver and gasp as all too quickly she felt herself hanging on that delicious edge once again. Claire was right behind her, grunting in pleasure as her bound hands clutching the pale skin of Alice’s inner thigh with a white knuckle grip while every roll of her hips pushing her closer and closer to that sweet oblivion.

Then suddenly she was there and Alice could only watch on in rapture as Redfield titled her head back and screamed a rich moan. Her lithe form began to shack, jerking wildly against her in a fit of passion that in turn threw her over the edge. They came simultaneously, crying out their pleasure as their orgasms exploded and a wash of white hot ecstasy rushed through their bodies.

The Storm had passed, the heavy sheet of rain now nothing more than a light drizzle; but neither Claire nor Alice could care as exhausted beyond measure; they clung together on the service station floor with nothing but their shared body heat for warmth. Half asleep, they listened to the light cracks of the dyeing fire until it lulled them into an easy sleep.

 AN: Ok, I just want to say sorry, but this story ends here. It wasn’t my choice but this story was a commission and my employer abandoned it for unknown reasons. I was disappointed as this was a very fun story to work on, but i respected his wishes and have abandoned it in accordance with his wishes.

Just for the Night: Chapter one

Disclaimer: I don’t own Dragonball Z  
Just for the night

Bored and frustrated, Erasa felt her eyes traveling wishfully to her bedroom window as she dropped her pen and ran a hand through her hair. It was only seven, the sun was still shining bright on the horizon and she could almost feel the cool breeze on her skin as it rustled the leaves on the tree in her backyard. It was a peach tree, she could remember planting it when she was just a girl in playschool and every summer, on the anniversary of that planting, she had taken a peach off those branches.

It was a beautiful spring evening, and here she was stuck in her bedroom; studying of all things.

For as long as she could remember, Erasa had never been one to worry about what might be or fret about her future. She’d always said that you only get one shot at life and you never know when it would end; so why not enjoy it. She liked to live for the moment, to party and have fun and live her life like every day was her last. She’d never imagined life past school, never thought about university or a carrier path. She’d chosen her courses purely because her friends were doing the same. Now she was paying for her lack of vision.

She’d finished her term at Orange Star High with modest grades, far from exemplary but just enough to gain admittance to one of the city’s finer collages. The news had come as a shock to everyone; her parents had been so proud they’d taken her out to dinner in an expensive restaurant and let her order anything she wanted. Indeed, the lobster had been exquisite.

For the first few months, her head had been full of ideas of parties and the nights had been dominated by wild trips out on the town. The beer and cocktails had run like some great river and she’d been hard pressed to think of anything else. Then her report card had come in and caused her world to come crashing down around her. She had failed in every class, who’d have thought university would be so hard. Her parents had told her straight, things had to change. She had to buckle down and study hard or be prepared for the consequences.

It was a simple choice. Not a choice at all really. There was just one problem, it was so damn hard!

Fortunately life rarely closed a door without opening a window and even being imprisoned and forced to study had some consolations. ‘Speaking of which…’

With all the subtly she could muster, she turned her head ever so slightly and fixed her gaze upon Gohan. Watching him avidly for a couple of moments, she felt the butterflies in her stomach take flight. He was seated across the desk from her, calmly reading through a stray text book that she didn’t recognise and dressed as he was in that tight fitting black shirt; he was a feast for her eyes to behold. It had been three years since she first met the outwardly geeky youth and it was clear the years had been good to him. Where once he had appeared skinny, well corded muscles now strained against his garments and his spiky black hair, having been allowed to grow out, fell down to his shoulders with stray strands curling around his bottomless black eyes. When she had told her friends about her problem, Gohan had quickly volunteered to help her and that was the only good thing to come out of this whole situation.

“Hey Erasa, you ok over there?”

His voice caused her to nearly jump out her skin and she was surprised to find that he was now looking at her from behind his book, his brow furrowed with concern. Embarrassed at having been caught, she felt her face burn a bright shade of scarlet and she hurriedly replied in a manner that she could only pray sounded nonchalant. “Yea I’m fine Gohan; I just wish we weren’t trapped inside on such a beautiful day.”

Gohan looked crest fallen and laid his book down on the desk. “Erasa you told me that you needed to study. Well the more we do now, the less we have to do at the weekends.” It was clear he was trying to look stern as he explained it to her but his rouse failed as his voice never lost its usual kind tone. It was as if he were explaining discipline to a child; and it made her heart swell. Resigned to her fate, she let out a defeated sigh and tried once again to set her mind on her studies. However she was trapped in a kill box; on one side the outside world taunted her, on the other her school girl crush tempted her. How was she supposed to concentrate with such distractions?

It just wasn’t fair. For three years she’d fought her desire for the young man. Ever since he’d first come to her school, Erasa had had a crush on Gohan. The moment she first laid eyes on him, she’d been swept away by his innocent mountain-boy role and cute exterior. But it was just a crush, she’d told herself that so many times in the hopes that it might wear off, yet Gohan was ever an enigma and the more she got to know him better, the more she had wanted him. Yet by the time she learned the true depth of her feelings for him, it was too late. Gohan was now in love with Videl; their mutual classmate and her oldest friend. He was forbidden fruit, and that was always the sweetest.

These were dangerous thoughts and too late did she feel the familiar heat rising inside her that had very little to do with the weather. Unfortunately, this was not lost on Gohan.

“Erasa…are you sure you’re alright?” He asked and though he tried to remain objective, he failed to keep the worried tone from his voice. “Do you want to get you a glass of water or something?”

Or something, defiantly.’ “No…I’m fine thanks Gohan.” Yet opportunity had knocked and in what she hopped was a casual manner, she swept a hand across her forehead before blowing an overly exaggerated breath and saying “but could we please stop for a few minutes and take a break? It’s just too hot to be cooped up here all afternoon”

For a moment, she feared Gohan might protest further, but then he seemed to have second thoughts and gave in. “Okay Erasa you win, we’ll take a break?” He said with a defeated shrug, causing her to all but squeal with delight as she jumped out of her chair. However Gohan moved with a measured slowness and though he too was secretly glad of the reprieve, he did his best not to appear too eager before joining her by the door.

Like a good host, Erasa escorted Gohan down the winding stairs that lead into her home’s modest living room; a stark but well lit chamber that was loosely furnished except for a coffee table in-between two sofas that were angled towards a wall mounted flat screen. “Just make yourself at home.” She said, gesturing lazily towards the left sided settee before reclining back on its right sided twin. Grabbing the remote off the coffee table, she turned on the television and began to avidly flick through the channels

Not sure of what else to do, Gohan followed her instructions and sat down stiffly on the edge of the seat. Erasa had a point; it was too nice a day to be cooped indoors. Yet it wasn’t the heat that was bothering him, there was something else at work here, something that made his mind foggy and his breath catch. Something wasn’t right, and despite his convictions, he glanced towards the vision of loveliness sitting across from him.

Still flicking through the channels, Erasa had adopted a less than ladylike pose with one of her exquisitely long legs dangling over the sofa’s arm while the other stretched across the table. It was entirely innocent of course, yet dressed as she was in that all too short white skirt, he couldn’t help letting his eyes glide over her perfect milky skin; greedily admiring her smooth waist and voluptuous torso before noticing the way her head was tilted back to expose her long neck. ‘By Kami, she’s beautiful!’

And then he began to imagine that long neck thrashing about as he climbed onto the sofa and ravaged her with his teeth and hands, her enticing form squirming and writhing deliciously beneath his as he took her right there in her parents’ living room. The idea appealed to him, and scared him immensely.

What was wrong with him?He loved Videl with all his heart, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known and there was no doubt in his mind that they were absolutely perfect for each other. She was kind and intelligent and when they were together, it was like every day was the first day of spring. So why was he now starting to fantasise about fucking another woman. It wasn’t right; Erasa was Videl’s oldest friend. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ Yet deep down, he knew the problem very well.

Vegeta had spoken to him once, saying that he could never understand the bizarre conventions of human society. By comparison, Saiyan culture had been almost primitive. The women had been primarily focused on raising the young while the men served the king. There was none of this talk of sexual equality or liberal rights; both knew there place and devoted themselves entirely to the perfection of their pursuits. There were only two desires shared, to fight and have sex and they hungered for both with unmatched passion. Once they started, they would never be rid of their need. At first Gohan hadn’t believed him, he’d thought there had to be more to sex than pure animal lust. But then he had started to date Videl and he’d understood completely. Truly there was nothing that could compare to the feeling of it.

For two years they had been hot and heavy, a churning sea of passion and desire that could burn for days on end without stop. Then they had gone to university, and everything had changed. Overnight their work load had increased tenfold and his mother, fearful that he might have been neglecting his education in favour of other ‘extracurricular’ activities, had forbade them from seeing each other until their work was done.

Suddenly he felt very warm and was all too aware of how tight his trousers were becoming; yet before he could stop himself his eyes fell on to the blond haired girl’s breasts. Her top was emerald green cotton that was stretched tight across her body and left little to the imagination. Her breasts were full and round and so lovely that he never noticed Erasa looking at him. She had felt the heat of his eyes on her skin and it thrilled her to know that he’d noticed her. And if he’d noticed her, then perhaps this was her chance, her one chance to get the man she loved.

She was determined not to waste it.

It was moments before Gohan came to his senses and when he looked away; she gave up on the telly and slid her long legs off the furniture before rising up and walking slowly around his chair. Being as quite as a mouse, she leant over the back off the sofa and stared down at the man beneath her; causing his dark eyes to snapped open when he sensed her above him.

Staring up at the golden haired beauty, Gohan felt somewhat uncomfortable and couldn’t help noticing the way her chirpy smile had returned and yet her eyes were somehow different. Almost as if they were hiding a secret just for him. As Gohan sat up, Erasa took a step back to give him some room but inadvertently presented him a close up view of her cleavage and he had to immediately stop himself from pouncing on her. “That was a quick break Erasa, are you sure you’re ready to go back to work?” he asked her nervously while mentally cursing his mother for putting him in this position and praying to Kami that he can get through the next hour without making a fool of himself.

Scarcely able to keep her smirk at bay, Erasa meekly nodded before turning to walk up the stairs fully aware that his eyes were on her.

Gohan couldn’t tear his eyes away, he watched her like a hawk, noticing every curve and shake of her delectable rump while his feet carried him up the stairs of their own accord. He wanted to touch her, to feel the heat of her skin and the curve of her arse, to taste the sweetness of her flavour as he devoured her before he bent her over and buried himself in that inviting rump. It took all his fortitude to tear off the girl’s backside before they entered her room and he once again begged all the deities to end his torture quickly so that he could go and see Videl and end his pain.

It seemed his pleas fell on deaf ears however, for every moment that followed from then on felt like an eternity. It was truly the longest hour of his life. For all his efforts nothing could escaped his notice and there was no little detail he didn’t see. He saw everything Erasa did, how when she thought she had the answer she would lick her lips, the way her eyes would flutter as she lost herself in thought; his favourite was the way she would begin to suck on the end of her pencil when she was stuck on a question, her tongue curling around it ever so slightly as she searched for the answer.

By the end of the session, he would have given all gold in the Ox kingdom just to be that pencil for a few moments for he was quite hard and when she handed him her work to check; her scent filed his nostrils. Beneath the bitter remnants of her perfume, he could taste the sweet flavour of vanilla. Now all he had to do was lean forward and she would be his to do with as he pleased…

Erasa was starting to panic; in the time gone she had done everything she could think of to try and seduce Gohan. Yet for all her wiles, he had proved to less corruptible than stone and she was almost out of ideas. Leaning across the desk, she presented him with her finished notes and almost shivered with ecstasy as she felt the heat of his gaze roam across her body. He wanted her, she knew it, and yet he did nothing. Was this some madness cooked up by God to punish her, or just some rotten trick of life; why did he have to be so bloody noble?

As he took her work, she was afforded a rare glimpse into his eyes and he was too engrossed in his thoughts to look away. Time was running short; perhaps it was time she took more drastic steps.

Leaning forward, Erasa pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was only chaste, yet it served to wake Gohan from his stupor. However he was too surprised by the act to pull away and so his Saiyan instincts were allowed to take over. With one move, he’d wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her across the desk and into his lap while responding to the kiss with a savage passion; thrusting his tongue into her mouth, meeting hers in a carnal dance. Erasa never resisted. Turning in his hold, she straddled his hips and wantonly ground her core onto his covered arousal.

Desperate to get inside her warmth, he bucked against her with strength enough to make her release a shriek of delight that suddenly awoke him from his inner conflict. Releasing what had happen all too quickly, he broke the kiss and rather abruptly shoved the girl of his lap as he shot out of his seat. She hit the floor hard and could only look up at with a hurt expression as her eyes began to brim with tears. “Gohan…?”

“I’m sorry Erasa, this…we need to stop.” He said, still slightly breathless from the kiss and unable to look her in the eyes for fear of what he might see. “This can’t happen, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Erasa look on the verge of tears yet she managed to suppress her sobs. “Bu-bu- but why? Why must we stop? You want me Gohan, I know you do. So why can’t we be together, just for this one night?”

“Because I love Videl.” His voice softened as he tried desperately to make her understand

“I’m not going to tell her Gohan. Videl is my best friend. She’s like a sister to me. I couldn’t bear to lose her but all I want is one night; nothing more. If you insist, I’ll never bring this up again but please Gohan…” A stray tear rolled down her check but Erasa didn’t have the heart to brush it aside; she couldn’t believe she was going to lose him now.

Then, suddenly, she had an idea. It was bold and dangerous but she didn’t care, anything was better than this. So with a deep breath, she literally threw herself at Gohan and with one move, ripped open his trousers to expose the still large bulge in his boxers. With his brain still dazed, he could only watch in wide eyed terror as Erasa gleefully pulled his boxers down so that his hardened erection burst free of its restraints and stood tall before her eyes.

In all her life Erasa had only ever seen one other example of the male anatomy, besides those crude diagrams in biology-textbooks; that was on the night she lost her virginity to Sharpener. Despite what people said, she wasn’t a slut. She may have liked to have a good time but, drinking and partying aside, her body was a temple. She was very proud to say she didn’t sleep around and had always wanted her first time to be special, with the man she loved. Instead it had been a complete disaster. It might have lasted for the grand sum of ten seconds; he’d used neither foreplay nor care and had just entered her, breaking her barrier, and clumsily moved inside her before cumming. Later she learned that he had only been friends with her so that he could get into hers and Videl’s nickers. He’d gotten her drunk, left her feeling totally unsatisfied and then had had the nerve to go round school telling people that she was easy.

However any fears she might have had of a repeat of events were quickly banished.

While Sharpener had been rather small, Gohan’s endowment looked to be over 25cm long and almost as thick as her wrist; considerably larger than average. Delighted by the discovery, a hungry smile spread across her lips and she reached out to carefully wrap her nimble fingers around his length, marvelling at the way it pulsated in her grasp and making him groan in a mix of pleasure and protest as she lightly pressed her thumb on the tip. Then with slow, almost hypnotic motions, she started to stoke him; running her small hand down from the swollen head to the thick base and then back again.

Scarcely able to breath, Gohan grabbed the edge of her desk with both hands as he bent over in pleasure. With that first touch, Erasa had stolen all his strength away and he was suddenly powerless against her attentions and unable to stop himself from bucking into her hand with every stroke of her palm. He knew he shouldn’t be enjoying this, that it wasn’t right; yet her hand just felt so good on his aching cock that he couldn’t resist. Only when he felt the warmth of her breath washing over the velvety head did he finally come to his senses.

Eyes wide, he looked down in time to watch his classmate lean in, drawn like a moth to a flame, and kiss his cock. “E-Erasa wh-what ar-are you doing? No…Stop! Nooohhhh!” His protest turned into an involuntary moan as Erasa began to work magic. Though she had little in the way of experience, she made up for that in determination and continued to slowly run her hand up and down his thick column while her mouth, tongue and teeth played with the swollen head.

“You want me, don’t you Gohan?” she asked innocently before running her tongue along the edge of his mushroom shaped organ. “Please say that you want me.”

“Oh Kami, Erasa…Please…stop” His voice was low and breathlessly as he begged her, painfully well aware that if she kept this up, he would defiantly lose control. Seeing his distress, Erasa couldn’t resist giving him a sly smile; it was time to move things along before her nerve broke. Swooping down; the girl took the head into her mouth, her full pouting lips stretching around his bulbous crown, and began to slowly bob her head, letting his length enter her orifice bit by bit.

Gohan thought he was going to go mad; the skin of his member was so sensitive that he could feel every minimal movement on his engorged flesh as she took him into her mouth, the way her teeth scrapped ever so lightly across the sides, the swift creases of her tongue on the tip, even the delicious rush of warmth that washed over him every time she inhaled. Kami, why was she being so slow? He knew he shouldn’t be enjoying this; that it was wrong and he should make her stop before they went any further. But it just felt so good and without any conscious thought, his hips began to push upward.

However, when she was only a third of the way down, the bulbous head breached her throat and despite her resolve to take all of him in, she began to gag. Realising she couldn’t take anymore, she pulled back ever so slightly before reaching down with her free hand and grabbing the bottom of her cotton top. With one quick tug, she pulled the snug garment up and over her breasts. Mesmerised, Gohan didn’t think to look away; though she almost never wore a bra, Erasa’s ample cleavage was full and bouncy and jiggled with every dip of her head. They were larger than Videl’s, but not so overly large that they appeared comical or artificial and he was near consumed by the desire to lick her rock hard nipples; just to see if they tasted as good as they looked.

Glancing up in time to catch him openly ogling her bared bosom, Erasa would have smiled if her mouth wasn’t so full. “Mmmm…I know you want me.”

His eyes grew as wide as saucers as he watched her drop both her hands to her sides before leaning in to envelope the remainder of his cock between her bountiful cleavage while continuing to suckle the weeping head. Gathering both orbs in her hands, she began slowly sliding her chest up and down, massaging the thick base with her breasts and timing her motions to match the slow up and down rhythm of her mouth.

Unable to breathe or think, Gohan felt as though his life’s thread was hanging on the edge of a knife. On one side was his self-control, on the other, his release from this torturous pleasure Erasa was conjuring up. He hungered for both but knew that giving into one would extinguish the other; there was no room for a middle ground.

In theory it should have been an easy choice. Videl was his world, he loved her more than words could say and was determined not to do anything that might jeopardise their relationship. Unfortunately his body seemed to have its own ideas.

“Oh Kami, Erasa!” her name left his lips as a pained moan, the pleasure suddenly so great that he could no longer resist the onslaught of pleasure that rushed over him. One last stroke of her tongue was all it took to bring him over the edge, his seed exploding into her waiting mouth in long ropes that she greedily swallowed, not missing a single drop of his creamy essence. Only when she had got every last drop did she finally stop; withdrawing her lips and raising her eyes to meet his.

“Mmm…you’re delicious.” She cooed dreamily, all the while smiling proudly at what she had accomplished. “Please sir, can I have some mor…” Her voice failed her when she saw the primal hunger gleaming like quick-silver in his eyes. Suddenly afraid, she tried to back away but one of his large hands came from out of nowhere to seize her bunched up top and yank it over her head and arms. Caught off by his surprising strength, her body folded to his will as with one move, he picked her up and threw her across the desk. Surprised by the abrupt change in him, she didn’t dare move from there as he reached down to grab the hem of her skirt. With one sharp tug, he tore the garment off her waist to leave her naked, prostrated and helpless beneath his gaze.

With a primal growl, his powerful hands seized her slender waist and pulled her back just as he stepped through and with one fierce motion, rammed his still hard cock inside her slick channel all the way to the hilt.

“Aaahhhhh…sweet Kami” She squealed as his impossibly long shaft all but ripped her in two. It had been so long since that night with Sharpener she had almost forgotten the pain of that first entry and she desperately grabbed the edge of the desk to steady herself, her knuckles turning bone white as she dug her neatly manicured nails into the timber. The odd position was making her feel somewhat disorientated and her entire body felt like it was on fire, but beneath that there was an exquisite feeling of fullness the likes of which she could never have imagined.

Awed by the awesome tightness of the beauty’s quivering core, a feral grin crossed Gohan’s lips as he pulled back until just the head remained inside her before snapping his hips forward and plunging back into her molten cavern. An involuntary growl was torn from his throat as her plush inner-walls began suckling his shaft, begging it to go deeper. Happy to oblige, he drew back from her warmth only to slam into her once more; doing so again and again until the room was filled with the wet slapping of their meeting hips.

Unprepared for this fresh onslaught, Erasa’s mouth gaped in a silent scream as she felt him forcing himself a little deeper inside her every time. The pain was lessening now, and all she wanted was to scream from the pleasure he was raising inside her. She felt so full and with every stroke, his thick member was hitting that spot deep inside her that felt wonderful; Kami she had never known sex could be this good. She wanted more, and of its own accord her body responded by moving to meet his thrusts, rocking and grinding her bottom against his pelvis.

“Oh…so tight…so…tight…” He barked; his voice now a dark echo of its former self as he gave himself over to the beast within him and mercilessly hammered the beauty beneath him for all she was worth. He was no longer Son Gohan, no longer the good hearted savour the earth had known for these past nineteen years; now he was the Saiyan. This wench had teased and tempted him to the point of no return, now he would give her the punishment she deserved.

“Oh Kami …yes…yes Fuck me…Fuck meeeeee!” Erasa cried, swept up in the rising tide of pleasure that signalled her approaching orgasm. Nothing she had ever done before, not with herself or the boys she’d fooled around with in school, could ever have hoped to compare with what Gohan was manipulating inside her. Already burning like molten desire through her veins, her first release promised to be a big one and she was sure she’d be walking funny for days.

Gohan never relented. There was little tenderness in his motions and with an iron tight hold on her gyrating waist; he snapped his hips back and forth in an erotically primal collision of flesh. In layman’s terms, he was fucking Erasa, plain and simple, and it was clear she loved every moment of it. With each violent thrust, he poured his pent up lust into her young body and she would rock and grind her succulent bottom back against his pelvis in a wanton frenzy as her nectar ran down her thighs. Kami, she was so tight…

Consumed by the wild passion of their forbidden tryst, time seemed to slow down as her body erupted in wild convulsions and a white hot fire set her nerves alight while bursts of brilliant colour kindled behind her eyes. “I’m cumming…it feels so good … fuck me deeper…deeper…” She babbled senselessly, her long legs trembling violently as she writhed in the volcanic pleasures. “Yes…take me…yes…Cumming…cumming…”

Gohan only grinned, his eyes igniting with a hint of turquoise as he continued his merciless onslaught. He could feel his release building; it was slow and still a long way from complete but he had to resist the urge to turn Mystic as he tirelessly ravaged her sweet channel with deep unyielding thrusts.

Completely at his mercy, Erasa could only moan out in utter delirium as wave after wave of orgasmic delight rolled over her. He was being so rough on her now that his every plunge would push her against the desk, dragging her stiff nipples across the rough wood and she was only vaguely aware that she was growing light headed. Darkness was encroaching on the edge of her vision but she continued to moving to meet his thrusts until her trembling legs could no longer support her and gave way beneath his onslaught.

However Gohan held her as if she were as light as a feather and continued his furious pace without missing a beat. Kami he was too much for her. This was impossible, how could one man be this good…

With his blood boiling with sexual energy, Gohan knew he was almost at his limit. Heavy drops of perspiration were rolling down his back and with every breath the musky aroma of sex flooded his nostrils. The constant tightening spasms of Erasa’s core had pushed him to the edge and he joyfully savoured the feeling of fucking the beauty from behind as his eyes, darkened by pent up lust, admired the way her tight young body moved in time to his own. With every slap of his pelvis, the full checks of her luscious rump would ripple and he was once gain given cause to wonder what it would be like to be inside her tight rectum, to utterly dominate and conquer her as he vigorously fucked her tight arse. The idea was enough to force him over the edge and with a low grunt he came inside her, his balls tightening almost painfully as a tide of his thick creamy seed erupted from the tip of his cock to flood her core.

With a heavy sigh, he took an uneven step back, his softening shaft slipping from the girl’s warmth as he fell back into the chair. Exhausted beyond measure, his chest heaved as he took in great lungful’s of air and desperately tried to make sense of what had just happened. What had he done! How could he have let things get out of hand like that? What was he going to tell Videl? On the verge of panic, he looked to Erasa in the hope that she might have the answer, only to find that she hadn’t yet moved.

Having fallen unconscious, Erasa lay motionless atop her desk in a dreamy world of her own. If she hadn’t been naked, it would almost be as if she had fallen asleep in the midst of her studies and seeing her there gave Gohan an idea.

Quietly standing so as not to risk waking her, he quickly fastened his trousers before scooping the sleeping girl up in his arms and carrying her across the room. Laying her gently down upon the bed, he lingered just long enough to tuck her into the covers before throwing open the window that hung over her bed and taking off into the night sky. If he was lucky she would think that it was all a dream.

Harry’s Secret

Harry’s Secret

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no profit from this fiction.

It had happened so suddenly, Harry never had the time to cry out as his body was rocked by waves of inconceivable agony. All he knew was that one moment he had been in Sirius’s old room at number four, reading Hermione’s copy of ‘ Hogwarts a History’ and then he was doubled over on the bed; clutching his ribs as they began to expand.

For days know, he’d felt the transformation building; that dull ache which constantly burned the base of his spine like a splinter burrowing deep in his flesh. However he had never expected it to hit him now, not when the full moon was still hours from rising.

Gasping deeply, Harry flung his arm out; knocking the thick tome off the bed as he desperately tried to reach for his wand. Only he couldn’t move for the pain and his wand, which was lying just on the edge of the bedside table, was just out of his reach. It willow handle almost taunting him with its closeness as it hung off the edge of the cabinet, just centimetres away from his fingertips.

Giving up the futile struggle as the expanding muscles in his arm begin to cramp up, he slowly rolled onto his back; watching in horror as the world around him began to blur. The rapid, none-rhythmic beating of his heart echoed in his ears as loudly as a ringing cathedral bell and he knew what was coming next. How could he not, it was the part every werewolf dreaded.

Gritting his fanged teeth as he fisted his right hand in the goose feather quilt, Harry managed to push himself up into a sitting position; causing every muscle in his body to furiously protest against the action but he didn’t care. He needed to stop the rest of Grimmauld Place’s occupants hearing him transform and keeping that thought in mind; he used wand less magic for the first time to cast a silencing charm on the bedroom before falling back onto the bed, screaming out at the top of his lungs as he felt his bones lengthening while thick black fur sprouted all over his body.

* * * * * * **

Hermione felt her stomach churning with fear as she slowly walked up the last few steps of Grimmauld Place’s highest stairway. Dragging her tired feet as if they were made of cement, she did her best not to look at the barbaric display of shrunken house elf heads that were hanging on the walls like a hunter’s trophies.

It was the last week of the summer holidays before she, Ron and Harry were due to return to Hogwarts for their seventh and last year at the prestigious school of witch craft and wizardry. However, to say it had been an enjoyable summer was another thing entirely. After Dumbledore’s death, even the celebration of Bill and Fleur’s wedding hadn’t been enough to lift the trio’s spirits; especially Harry’s.
Hermione couldn’t explain it, but ever since that terrible night; Harry had been…different. And it was that reason which had brought her here; as for the first time since the Tri-wizard tournament, Harry Potter had missed dinner.

For as long as she’d known him; Harry had always had a good appetite. Years of starvation at the Dursley’s had made him come to appreciate the simple things like a proper sized meal and he’d never missed one, unless under serious duress. What made this situation worse was that Harry’s appetite was on the list of things which had changed about Harry and although he was not a compulsive eater like Ron; it was obvious he was eating more.

Suddenly, the witch felt a disarming chill run down her spine as she thought of all the ways that her Harry had changed. Ever since the end of term, he had been acting distant and was constantly shutting himself in Sirius’s old room between meals.

It had been hard to bear but Hermione had been telling herself she wouldn’t mention it. It was hard enough to have a conversation with Harry at the moment and the last thing she wanted was to inadvertently shorten those precious times by bringing up what could be a touchy subject.
However, tonight had been the last straw and after quickly finishing her dinner; Hermione had decided she needed to talk to Harry and dashed up the stairs before anyone could try and dissuade her.

Gathering all of her Griffindor courage as covered the last of the steps, Hermione quickly rapped her knuckles against the wood of the door. Her heart was beating louder than a troll’s drum as she waited for an answer but with every second that passed without a reply; her fleeting resolve grew weaker.

It was strange but even though Grimmauld Place was full of occupants that evening, Hermione had never heard the old building sound so… deathly silent; almost like the house itself was waiting for the his reply and it did nothing to help her dwindling nerve. Knocking again, she almost considered leaving and trying again in an hour or two but she dismissed the thought when she remembered just how hard it had been for her to take this step. No, she had to do this. It was now or never.

“H…Harry, it’s Hermione” she called, her voice shaking somewhat as she slowly gripped the brass knob; turning it ever so slightly before continuing with”…We need to have a talk.” as she pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was dark, too dark for her even to make out the king-size bed and quietly shutting the door behind herself; she withdrew her wand from the rear pocket of her denim jeans and whispered “Lumos”. The spell caused a small ball of light to glow at the ip of her wand and see raised it up high enough to light the room in its glow before stopping dead as an inhuman growl reverberated around the bedroom.

Although the pale blue rays of her spell barely managed to penetrate the dark void but it was near impossible to miss the large form that was crouching in front of her. Its razor sharp fangs were bared and clearly gleaming in the darkness as it slowly stalked towards the terrified girl.

In the back of her mind, Hermione knew she should have been using every curse she knew to try and get some space between her and this monster; but she just couldn’t bring herself to move as fear rushed through her blood stream like liquid adrenalin. It stepped closer, walking into the blue glow radiating from her wand; revealing its dark muzzle, triangularly pointed ears and blazing emerald green eyes…

It was like someone had hit her with a freezing charm as the reality of her situation sunk in. Harry Potter, the boy who lived and last best hope for wizard and muggle kind alike; had somehow become a Werewolf. And he was about to devourer her like she was nothing more than a common forest deer.

It didn’t take a genius to realize what he was doing and Hermione had seen enough documentaries on ‘BBC 2’ as a child to recognize the signs of a hunting wolf. Suddenly, a cold sense of feeling returned to her legs as watched the wolfen form of her best friend approaching and she took a cautious step back. She felt the hard wood of the door pressing against her back.

The brass knob that would open the door and save her life was in her palm. However, it was not that simple and before she could even try and turn the metal sphere; her once steady legs gave way and she fell to her knees.

Hermione wasn’t sure how long she knelt there, too afraid to look up for fear of what she might see; she could only kneel sit there and listen to the canine’s heavy breathing. Any minute now, Harry would strike and there was no doubt in her mind that he would kill her and then eat her bloody remains…

And then something she had never expected happened, Harry ran the rough skin of his slick wolf tongue against the skin of her cheek.

To say the least, she was surprised and looking up; the witch felt her heart swell as she saw the once monstrous hound sitting before her with his head tilted down and tail between his hind legs, almost like a common house dog whose master was angry with him.

“Harry?” Hermione asked cautiously before releasing a heavy sigh of relief as the canine looked up at her; his emerald orbs brimming as if he were about to cry. “Is that really you?”

Although not sure whether the animal tilting his head slightly was a sign of recognition or not, it didn’t take a Dr. Dolittle to recognize his timely bark as a ‘Yes’ before he was suddenly licking the skin of her face.

“Haa…rrrryyyyy…Stop…that tickles…” the witch pleaded while laughing hysterically, desperately trying to shield her face from the wolf’s attacking tongue. However, Harry was unrelenting and pressed his assault until Hermione was pressed against the door so much she had practically become part of the wooden structure, only then did he begin to retreat.

Gasping for breath, Hermione could only sit there for a few moments before an evil grin formed on her glistening red lips as she lunged forward; catching the large wolf off guard by pushing him onto his back and rubbing the soft skin of his underbelly. Ever since had been a little girl, Hermione had always loved animals and at the age of five; her parents her bought her a puppy Alsatian which she had called Scruffy.

Sadly, Scruffy had died about a month before her first year at Hogwarts but Hermione couldn’t help but remember the games she and Scruffy always use to play as she rubbed her best friend’s sensitive belly. It was suddenly becoming very hard to remember that this was actually Harry and not her treasured childhood pet.

It seemed like they were there for hours, witch and wolf joyfully play wrestling on the wooden floor; neither really caring for the uniqueness of the situation until a most unwelcome sound echoed in to the room from the other side of the door.

“Harry…Hermione…are you two in their?”

Hermione felt her heart stop as the questioning voice of Ronald Weasley reverberated around the large chamber and her blood ran cold when she felt Harry suddenly go still. Glancing down, she watched in horror as the wolf’s attention was suddenly drawn to the door; his teeth bearing their ivory points as his ears pointed back. Once more, Harry was preparing to attack and she could tell that this time; he would give not refer back to a playful puppy state.

Although the witch had absolutely no idea as to why the wolf had spared her earlier, she knew it was unlikely that he would be doing the same for Ron; when transformed Werewolves had very little memory of their human lives and could not discern who was once a friend.

Suddenly, the sound of rotating metal filled the room and looking over; Hermione was horrified to see that the door knob was slowly rotating. In her mind she could already see it happening, Ron walking in, his eyes suddenly alive with horror as he watched Harry pounce on him; helpless as the monstrous wolf’s muzzle closed around his neck and tore his throat out. It was too much for her to bear and before she knew what she was doing; Hermione jumped up and placed herself between the canine and the door.

In the near decade that she had known Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, this was without a doubt the stupidest thing she had ever done. Even if the wolf didn’t lunge for Ron, who’s to say he won’t suddenly change his mind and devour her instead?

Unable to get this idea out of her head, a chain of fierce shivers suddenly ran down her spine; causing her body to begin violently shaking but she didn’t move. Instead, she slammed the heel of her trainer against the door and used it to stop the door from suddenly opening as she tried to block Ronald from the predator’s view. Ron wasn’t helping matters though…

“Hermione…Is that you?” He called while literally trying to barge his way in through the door, not noticing as he did the extremely audible growls coming from Harry. Correctly guessing that Harry had managed to place a silencing charm on the room before he transformed, Hermione knew that it would be no good trying to communicate the situation to Ron without placing them both, and Harry for that matter, in serious danger and so she decided to face the much more serious side of the problem head on.

With a flick of her wand, she quickly cast a sealing charm on the door before turning her attention back to the angry wolf. Doing her best to ignore the red-head’s extremely annoying complaints, Hermione slowly sunk to her knees before the wolf; making sure to keep her eyes locked to his emerald orbs as she did. It wasn’t an easy thing to do though, every nerve in her body was shouting for her to either run or hide; but she just couldn’t.

Fine! Then just…stay in there!” Ron finally shouted and she heard the wizard’s retreating footsteps echoing down the steps as he stormed away. Unable to contain her relief, the witch looked down at the floor and released a heavy sigh. Seconds past before Hermione realized her mistake and quickly looking up, she had just enough time to see Harry cross the short distance that separated them before he used his muzzle to knock her on her backside.

“Ow! Stupid wolf.” She grumbled, gently rubbing her sore butt as she tried to sit up; only to have Harry push her back down once more. Only this time, after knocking her back he took another step forward; trapping her beneath his much larger mass. “Harry? What are you…?” The beast never gave her time to finish before he bent down and pressed the end of his muzzle against her lips, sealing them in an almost human kiss.

For moments she could only sit there, eyes as wide as Mrs Weasley’s dinner plates as Harry kept her trapped beneath him; his powerful muzzle quickly prying her glistening red lips apart and plundering her orifice with his savage tongue like it were the belly of a deer. Too stunned to dare move, Hermione didn’t react until she felt the beast beginning to withdraw; slowly drawing back until the wet tip of his nose was rubbing against her own. Swallowing nervously, she quickly took a breath in preparation for speech while desperately trying to think of something to say as she looked into his eyes. Those lush, emerald green orbs that had forever captured her very heart and soul since the first time she had gazed into them.

Suddenly, something snapped within the teen as she gazed in wonderment at the wolf’s canine facial features and the furry wolf slowly began to melt away until only the handsome features of Harry Potter remained; his strong features gazing back at her the most primal of desires lighting his emerald eyes. For what seemed like hours she could do little more than stare into those orbs, her heart and mind each fighting over what she should do next but when the battle was won; Hermione knew that she would never regret her actions.

Reaching out, she took a fistful of the wolf’s luxurious black fur and suddenly pulled his muzzle back down to her lips; pressing the somewhat fuzzy muzzle against her soft skin as she accepted his tongue deep into her mouth. And as the beast’s long, ravenous muscle began a sensual dual of passion with her own; Hermione’s hands moved further back to tangle her fingers in his dark mane and pull him closer.

“Oh mmmmph” She moaned into Harry’s mouth as long felt desire took control of her body and mind like the Imperius curse; coaxing her petite tongue from its lair to dance passionately with his as she wrapped her athletic legs around Harry’s waist, giving her greater leverage to kiss the hungry wolf more deeply.

* * * * * * *

Ever since the human female had entered his lair, almost every fibre within the lycanthrope had demanded that he devour the wench; all but his heart. However, only when he was prepared to pounce, when every of his heightened senses roared kill; did the infernal organ protest. And when he was just a heart’s-breath away from ripping out her throat, it bombarded him with thoughts he could not recall ever having and memories of events he did not remember.

They were random, obviously from different occasions but always featuring the same two humans. One was the terrified girl huddling before him and the other, a somewhat skinny human male with pitch black hair and a lightning bolt scar engraved into his skull. Several seconds past before recognition finally sunk in and the wolf was able to recognize his human self and with that, came everything he need to know about his friend.

Everything else was a bit of a blur for Lycan-Harry, or at least until his heightened hearing caught the gentle thumps of approaching footfalls. Predatory hunger hit him like a sledge hammer and temporarily forgetting about the very sweet tasting girl beside him; the wolf turned his attention towards the wooden barrier. Already, the strong sent of a sexually frustrated teenager was radiating from it and the mythical canine could literally feel his muzzle watering as he inhaled it. Sinking down lower onto his front paws as the brass knob slowly began to rattle, Harry was about to pounce when Hermione blocked his path.

Confused and slightly hurt that his apparent friend would want to get in the way of his lunch, Harry pulled his upper lip back in a mock growl; if she moved quickly he might still consider giving her some of his kill. However, Hermione remained resolute to the spot and even as he emitted a more vocal warning; she continued to challenge him. If it had been anyone else who dared challenge him in such a way, the wolf wouldn’t have stood for it and attacked without a moment’s hesitation but as he gazed at her; another sensation began to burn inside him.

It was strange but as he watched her, Harry began to lose focus on Hermione Granger and see something that was much more like a gloriously savage and wild female werewolf. Her bushy locks of caramel coloured hair almost identical to the main of tangled pelt that would cover her from pointed ears to clawed paws; even the Girl’s posture was near identical to the feminine lycans.
Suddenly, teenage hormones mixed with lycanthrope instinct began to form an overwhelming cocktail that quite literally stepped on his tail and as their eyes met; the wolf found he was unable to resist. Crossing the space that divided them in a few short steps, Harry was upon Hermione before she knew any better and had captured her lips before she could resist.

For tense moments she didn’t respond and remained as still as one of the Hogwarts statues as he kissed her, only when he began to wonder if he had made a mistake and began to pull back did she respond. Threading her elegantly slender fingers through the long, coal coloured locks of his main; the girl pulled his muzzle back to her lips in a show of hungry desire that rivalled even his own. The kiss wasn’t an easy embrace as only the front portion of his jaw could touch her criminally small lips but Harry was not dissuaded and instead did what he could to drink her in like the starving wolf he was. She tasted beyond sweet, like the cold waters that flowed from hidden forest springs and as he drank from her depths; the still human part of Harry’s mind couldn’t help but wonder why he had never done this before.

He wasn’t sure when but sometime between her kissing him back and wrapping her surprisingly athletic legs around his abdomen; Hermione had sunk down until she was practically underneath him. Contrary to must wizard and human beliefs, Werewolves were anything but completely savage and could show a surprising amount of concern when it came to their mates and Harry was no exception. Careful to keep his muzzle locked against her lips, the wolf suddenly turned around and leapt up onto the bed.

However, shocked by the sudden movement, Hermione accidentally released her grip on Harry’s canine body and fell to the bed.

Disgruntled somewhat by the loss of contact, she looked up to see the large wolf looking down at her; his emerald eyes gazing hungrily into hers and although she couldn’t explain how, the witch instantly knew what he wanted.

Nodding nervously, Hermione grabbed the hem of her rose petal pink T-shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing her bare 34C mounds of flesh to the wolf’s eyes as she tossed the garment aside.
Revelling in the sight of her like she were some magnificent doe just ripe for devouring, Harry’s ravenous eyes slowly travelled up the creamy white skin of her slender torso to the luscious sight of her fully formed breasts; their milky complexion accentuated somewhat by the contrasting rosy shade of her stiff nipples. Just gazing at the magnificent orbs sent a shiver down the wolf’s spine as he felt his considerably aroused wolfhood growing and protruding from its warm sheath to hang between his hind legs as the still human part of his mind marvelled her beauty.

With her heart loudly beating in her ear’s, Hermione waited anxiously for the wolf’s reaction to her bare chest. Ever since she had developed her astounding cleavage part way through the previous summer holiday, the witch had been especially shy about revealing her well-endowed breasts to her two best friends; so much so that she had even magically altered all her tops and robes to make it appear that she was almost flat chested.

However, her fears appeared to of been unfounded as moments after she discarded the enchanted garment; Harry lent forward and began to ravenously lick her neck. Instinctively, she tilted her head back to grant him better access to the hollow of her throat while moaning quietly the pleasurable sensations his attentions caused spread through her body.

Continuing his ministrations, Harry lovingly creased his way down her body with his talented tongue; leaving a damp trail in his wake as he descended from her elegantly slender neck to her naked shoulder and onto the sensitive skin of her collarbone. Excitement and arousal coursed through his system like molten ecstasy as his heart beat a mile a minute and although inexperienced in the ways of pleasure; a mixture of instinct and youthful curiosity guided him as he descended upon her full breasts.

Slowly, the werewolf dragged his long tongue across the valley between her breasts and around the more than supple moaned of her right breast before dragging it over her stiff bud.

“Ohhhhhhhhh!!!” moaned Hermione delightedly as Harry’s exquisite tongue ran over her swollen nipple, adding fuel to the already blazing inferno ragging in her belly and loins. Gasping loudly as delectable sensations caused by his hot tongue circling her taught nipple spread through her body, the witch arched her back and thrust her ample bosom up against him while threading her fingers in his black mane to hold him in place as he devoured her.

Unhindered by her interruptions, Harry licked at the sensitive skin of her nipple for several moments before tenderly nipping it with his sharp teeth; careful however not to brake the skin for risk of infecting her with werewolf venom. Although the idea of turning her into his greatest desire appealed to the wolf immensely, he wasn’t so sure Hermione would feel quiet the same way; better to ask later and risk refusal than to possibly destroy their friendship and any chance of future rutting.

“Harry….” The witch moaned, half in agony and half in pleasure as he continued to gently gnaw her breast’s aching bud; causing her head to spin as she felt each incredible sensation before almost coming undone as he switched to her other mound. Gasping for breath as he rolled his tongue other the aching bud, Hermione wrapped her athletic, denim clad legs around his waist and suddenly became aware of a very large something rubbing between her shapely buttocks as she writhed under Harry’s incredible muzzle.

Lost in her pleasure, it took a moment for Hermione to fully comprehend what the immense object was but as realization hit her like a stunning charm, a deep shade of crimson stained her features. Having always being thought of as a bookworm or teacher’s pet by the other students, it was such an alien idea that she could have been the cause of his so very impressive arousal.

Although he didn’t show it, a deep shiver had run through Harry’s body the moment his mate had touched his erection and unconsciously began to grind himself between her succulent backside; almost driving him to a premature release before he could restrain himself. Now was not the time to lose control when he had such a beautiful bed mate to please and copulate with.

Carefully scrapping his teeth over her hard bud one last time, Harry than descended down her exquisite body; licking every inch of skin he came to. Lavishing attention to the tender flesh of her belly, the wolf was about to proceed to the treasure between the girl’s shapely thighs when he realized that she was still wearing her denim jeans.

Not at all caring for the fabric blocking his path, Harry immediately tore into it, causing Hermione to release a load shriek of terror as he grasped the waist line between his teeth and ripped a long line in the cloth with one jerk of his head. After severing the thin bonds that held her jeans together, the wolf had little trouble dragging the denim shreds down her smooth, creamy legs before tossing them aside as he turned his attention back to the witch.

Ever since he had begun attending to her breasts, Harry had been able to sense a strange heat building inside Hermione’s lower body but he had resisted the urge to investigate on the grounds that he had wanted to indulge the human beauty. But now he was free to sniff around the sexy red thong that seemed to frame her hips oh so well. Already he could feel the exquisite heat rising from her centre and leaning forward, he took a deep breath of her sweet scent before releasing the wash of hot air over her burning cloth covered core; causing the witch to writhe in anticipation as the teasing sensation washed through her. Being somewhat more gentile than he had been with her jeans, he hooked the silken elastic between his sharp fangs and pulled the lacy undergarment down her porcelain-white thighs and smooth legs; leaving her completely exposed to his lustful eyes.

Discarding the tiny garment, Harry began slowly licking his way up one of her legs; quickly making his way to the junction between her legs. Taking a second to look up at the beauty staring down at him, the wolf admired the way her dark locks of bushy chocolate coloured hair were spanning across the pillow and stuck to the sweaty skin of her forehead, her maroon eyes were veiled by a clear sheet of desire and a thin veil of perspiration lined her navel. Licking his muzzle in anticipation as he took in the delicious sight; the wolf nudged her slender legs further apart before the front part of his muzzle disappeared from the witch’s view.

Sniffing her freely seeping core cautiously, Harry was delighted to inhale her musky scent and didn’t waste a moment before hungrily lapping up the juices that flowed from Hermione’s burning orifice and then turning his attentions on her sweet cavern.

“OH Merlin Harry!” the witch shrieked in ecstasy as she felt the wolf’s magnificent tongue trace her labia, adding fuel to the already blazing fire in her belly that threatened to consume her whole being. Encouraged by her soft moans, the werewolf began greedily drinking from her moistened womanhood; parting the wet folds with his large tongue and attacking her stiff clit, practically driving the once rigid bookworm to the point of insanity. “Oh…Merlin! Harry you’re such an animal!” Hermione cried while throwing her head back into the soft pillow as she almost shredded the duvet with her nails. The sensations that his brilliant tongue were creating as it massaged her aching clit were so mind numbingly exquisite that the witch had trouble remembering to breath as she basked in the pool of ecstasy.

Although not exactly a grade A student, it didn’t exactly take an Albert Einstein to realise Hermione was enjoying his attentions; the way she kept bucking her hips every time he touched her clit was a rather big give-away. However, hearing her calling his name in such a needy and pleasure filled voice was making the wolf begin to feel really uncomfortable; so much so that he decided it was time to make this girl cum so they could finally begin serious matting.
Rolling his rough tongue over her clit one last time, he then descended upon her quivering entrance; his already dampened muzzle watering as he took in its virgin pink complexion before plunging forth. Sinking his tongue as deeply inside her burning depths as the tight walls of the witch’s cavern would allow, causing Hermione to almost scream in ecstasy as her body was invaded by the werewolf’s tongue. The extraordinary sensations his powerful muscle created however were too much for her and all the teen wanted was to just howl and cry in pleasure; but she just couldn’t get enough air in her lungs to do so.

Ravishing her core with his tongue while hungrily drinking in her sweet nectar, the wolf was completely focused on the task of twirling the muscle inside her tight passage and didn’t notice just how fast he was driving the poor girl to a mind blowing climax. However, he did know it wouldn’t be long till she reached her peak. Her hips seemed to be bucking more and more wildly with each passing second and even a deaf old wizard would have been able to hear Hermione’s pleasure filled moans as he probed and licked every inch of her womanhood that he could reach.

Nevertheless, he was growing impatient with her stubbornness and quickly redoubled his efforts to send her over that peak by fastening his tongue’s strokes while applying a light pressure to her clit with the aid of his nose. It worked and a few moments later, the dusty chamber was filled with the echoing sound of his name bouncing off the stone walls as Hermione screamed her climax.

Gasping softly as she basked in the afterglow of her orgasm, Hermione could only dazedly watch as her werewolf lover greedily drank the fruit of her climax as it pooled between her legs; a sight which easily fed the lustful embers burning in her belly like a bottle of fire-whisky. Suddenly, fresh waves of passion began coursing through her system and before the wolf knew what happened; Hermione wrapped her legs around his torso and flipped their positions so that she was now the one on top.
Of course, Harry didn’t respond quite so well to the change in his position as she had hopped but while trapped beneath her on his back; there was little the mighty canine could do but growl.

“Ahhhhh, is poor Harry upset because he is no long in charge?” the witch cooed, unafraid by the wolf’s little show and instead lent down to place a soft kiss on his nose before whispering “Don’t worry boy, mummy will make it up to you…” And with that, Hermione rotated herself around so that she was now facing his erect wolfhood. And what an impressive spectacle it was…

Standing tall and proud, Hermione could only stare wide-eyed as she took in the sight of his prominent arousal; mentally measuring it to be about 12 Inches long!

Merlin…he’s gigantic!” She thought while trying not to blush. Although this was the first time she had seen an actual phallus, like everything else she had done some reading up on the subject of male anatomy and was more than sure that most men weren’t even half the size of the example before her. The question was, was this ‘little’ development part of the transformation or was Harry simply special in all aspects.

Grinning as she made a note to enquirer about it later, Hermione slowly wrapped her lithe fingers around his godly length however it was so thick that her fingers could only enclose around half it’s width. Entranced by the extraordinary symbol, the teenage witch began to stroke the Wolf’s shaft at a leisurely pace before giggling in a very Lavender Brown fashion as she heard the canine release a series of pitiful whine; obviously enjoying her attentions.

Not wanting to be a tease after he had shown such attention to her needs, Hermione then lent forward and placed a soft kiss on the tip of his member before slowly taking him into her mouth. However, because of his great girth it was anything but easy for the inexperienced witch; in fact he had almost stretched her orifice to its limits before she had even taken half of his member between her lips. Despite this, she slowly continued to lower her oral cavity down the entire length of Harry’s 12 inch cock, shivering slightly as she felt its hard, heated texture rub the sides of her warm mouth before pushing into her throat and only when her soft lips had reached the base of the werewolf’s magnificent shaft did she stop.

Harry had been enjoying the light teasing brought on by Hermione’s hand but the pent up lust he had developed for the extremely sexy witch over the last few months was really starting to hurt and he at least wanted her to bring him over the edge with something other than her talented fingers. Ironically, no sooner had the wolf thought this than he instinctively rolled his head back and slid his emerald green eyes closed as he felt her warm breath wash over his aching member just before she took him into her burning orifice.

It was an incredible sensation, to feel the velvety head of his painfully stiff cock slipping past her soft lips as she took him into the warm cavern of her mouth; her wet tongue pressing against his sensitive flesh and even her teeth skilfully scraping his rigid flesh felt great. At an agonizingly slow pace, the bushy haired beauty took him into her mouth, slowly letting his length pass through her lips…

Placing her soft hands on the bed either side of the Wolf’s hips to support herself; Hermione started to slowly raise her head off the beast’s wolfhood until only the swollen tip remained within her burning cavern and then repeated the motion of consuming his entire shaft. Up and down, the witch slowly lowered and raised her head on her friend’s thick shaft, continually rolling her tongue against the rigid flesh as she engulfed him; allowing every part to slide into her hot mouth and even down her tight throat before slowly raising her head. And then, she slowly started to speed up, increasing her pace with each stroke until she was bobbing her head up and down in a fast rhythm while applying a suction that was tighter than a vice with her lips

Merlin… Hermione…Oh shit you’re so gooooooooooddddddddddd!!!!!!!!” Harry moaned in his wolfish language, barley able to keep hold of any conscious thought as he basked in the pool of ecstasy the witched had plunged him into. The incredible way she was massaging his length with her mouth made him feel like the tip of his member was going to burst and he was sure that if she kept this up much longer; he would be unable to stop himself from releasing his seed down that marvellous throat of hers.

Listening to the deep moans and groans being emitted by her mythical canine lover, Hermione couldn’t help but moan herself as she grew more aroused by the minute; the deep, pleasure filled vocalizations sending shivers down her spine and fuelling the raging inferno between her slick thighs. However, this caused Harry to almost skull fuck her to death as he wildly began bucking his powerful hips and releasing a long series of high pitched moans.

Gasping for breath, she quickly pulled off the beast’s dick and began coughing violently. Sitting up once she was once more able to breath, Hermione wiped her lips clean with the back of her hand before looking over her shoulder and turning her attention back to her dazed friend; a stern expression playing across her features. “Damn you Harry! You could have choked me…” but noticing that he wasn’t paying any more attention to her than he was to the blank portraits hanging on the walls around them, a sly smile suddenly spread across her lips and temporarily forgetting her anger; she stood up and rotated herself around so that she was sitting between his legs.

Waiting until the wolf had regained enough sense to look at her and still smiling in a sly but innocent fashion, she asked sweetly “Did you enjoy that Harry?” However, already knowing the answer she didn’t wait for him to respond before placing a firm hand on his hip and lowering her mouth back onto his straining length while keeping her chocolate brown orbs locked to his emerald green irises as she did so. Being already use to his much more than average size, she was able to consume his entire length in one stroke of her lips; earning soft grunts of satisfaction from her counterpart as her free hand began gently stroking his soft balls.

Holy crap! Where did Hermione learn this kind of magic?” Wondered the wolf as he felt her angelic fingers gently wrap around his tender testicles and begin slowly massaging them in ways that made his head spin as her mouth returned to his almost painfully hard cock; teasing the burning head with her tongue as she slowly took him back into her constricting throat. And then he felt her moan again, causing him to buck his hips off the bed again as the delectable vibrations reverberated all along his shaft and damn near drove him mad with desire while pressing him ever closer to the edge. So badly he desired to watch her head bending up and down on his wolfhood, to see his stiff member disappearing and reappearing through Hermione’s luscious lips; but she was too good and his eyes were shut tightly as he pressed his head against the pillow.

“Mmmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmmmm” moaned Hermione around the Wolf’s hard shaft while holding his hips to stop him from bucking to hard, still somewhat fearful of what the powerful creature could do to her if left unchecked. However, sensing that her partner was quickly approaching his peak the witch began to quicken her pace; sucking the large canine with all the strength she had while bobbing up and down faster and faster.

Harry was amazed, her mouth was velvet soft and her throat almost made him cum every time his hard cock pushed into her depths; it was so hard for the teenage werewolf to believe she wasn’t a pro. But then again, Hermione Granger was the most magnificent witch he had ever met and could do just about anything she set her mind on; why should her performance of oral pleasure be any different than that of charms?

The Wolf knew he was really close to cumming down the witch’s heavenly throat but he was stubbornly trying to make it last the longest possible, the pleasure was just too intense for him to give up lightly and he wanted to enjoy every moment of it. But although strong willed, Harry Potter also possessed all the shortcomings of youth; including riding on a hair trigger and a last moan from Hermione was all it took to make him fly over the edge.

Caught off guard by the river of bittersweet fluid suddenly flowing down her throat, the witch did her best to swallow all she could but it was undoubtedly too much too soon and before she could stop it; some of the mighty canine’s seed escaped her mouth and flowed down her chin. Releasing the still steely flesh from her lips once the last of his essence had rolled down her throat, the bushy haired beauty then made a show of licking her lips clean before crawling between his hind legs and up his chest to place a soft kiss on his muzzle.

However Harry was too dazed to notice and was frankly more interested in the set of golden snitches buzzing around his head than what Hermione was doing. Breathing hard, the wolf had to struggle not to fall into a deep sleep as he basked in the afterglow of the incredible climax that she had bestowed upon him.

Although a powerful potion consisting of desire, lust and love was cooking within her centre, Hermione couldn’t help but feel nerves as she positioned herself over his hard shaft. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for since forth year; the moment she gave her virginity to Harry Potter.
It was certainly like nothing she had ever imagined this moment being. There no romantic dinner or moon lit stroll through the park as a mode builder, no Harry defending her hour against the insults of Draco Malfoy; not even the kind and gentle boy she had known since the first year of school attending to her every desire. Instead, she was presented with a night that’s very essence revolved around animal lust and pent up longing.

It was undeniably so much better than anything she had ever dreamed of.

With that in mind, the witch couldn’t help but smile as she got into position; placing herself over his erection before lowing herself down until its weeping tip almost entered her slick entrance. Waiting until the teenage wolf had regained enough sense to look at her, Hermione then locked her lustful orbs to the canine’s hungry eyes as she grabbed his monstrous shaft and gently guided him into her.

“That’s it! Oh that’s it!” the naked witch gasped, feeling his incredible member sliding inside her tight canal, “Oh-oh Merlin!” And then, before the wolf could stop himself; he thrust his hips up and propelled his hard penis as deep as it could go inside.

Eyes opening as wide as a set of dinner plates, Hermione threw her head back and had to fight the urge to scream as Harry broke her barrier; stretching her walls to their very limits as he forced himself deep inside her core. It hurt, it hurt a lot but the revelation that at that moment; she was one with the love of her young life seemed to counter the agony with something much sweeter.
Fortunately, Harry seemed to of understood what had happened and was unwilling to move again for risk of hurting her more; lying as still as a lust striven magical wolf could until she was ready for him. It helped a lot and once she had adapted to his extraordinary size; Hermione started to slowly lift her hips up until only his head was inside her before fall back down onto him again.

“OH Merlin Harry! Every inch of you is so deep inside me!” she suddenly squealed in ecstasy as every inch of the wolf’s hard length was fully encased within her burning core and wanting more; she began to speed up her motions.

Trapped by the exquisite feel of her velvety soft walls and entranced by the captivating sight of Hermione ridding him, the alluring sight of her voluptuous breasts bouncing with her every movement and the look of sheer euphoria on her gorgeous face; Harry could only lay beneath her. Although every fibre of his Werewolf soul told him that his willing submissiveness was going too far, that he should roll them over and take her like the lustful bitch in heat she would soon become; his still partly human mind reasoned that this was her first times as well and that their plenty of time for rutting once she had warn herself out.

However, that time appeared to be a long way off as their antics seemed to of unlocked a side to Hermione Harry had never seen before, a wild witch who seemed to only grow more ferocious by the second as she dominated him; plunging her tight cavern onto his straining member with as much vigour as she expressed for studying.

“Uh-uh-uh-oh yes! Oh yes!” Hermione moaned, their unusual position making her a little disoriented but the pleasure it gave her was certainly worth the sight of their dimly lit bedroom spinning uncontrollably as she increased the wild tempo and every time she impaled herself on his shaft; she felt the explosive spring of pleasure welling up inside her abdomen. Wanting more, the wild witch began moving with all her might; causing the bed’s large oak headboard to begin banging against the wall as she rode him like a cowgirl would her mighty bucking stallion.

Likewise, Harry was having extreme difficulty remaining in control of himself and with her every stride; the werewolf drew ever closer to his breaking point. But when Hermione suddenly dragged her hand across his lower belly, scrapping the sharp tips of her nails against the soft flesh; Harry couldn’t help himself and thrust his hips forward while whining in an almost pained fashion.

“OH FUCK YES!!!!” Cried the witch, arching her back as she felt the wolf’s massive appendage being thrust deeper inside her core and lost in the sensation; Hermione’s hands independently slid up her slender body and begin massaging her soft mounds. Squeezing her hard nipples between her fore and middle fingers, she continued to mercilessly ride the beast in a haze of rapture; only now with the added pleasure of Harry meeting her motion for thrust.

If he had not been here to see it, Harry Potter would never have believed this could of happened. He had desired Hermione like no other for years but he had never believed that they would be able to share this sort of connection, somehow he had come to think that she would be more attracted to Ron and his tall stocky build rather than his own more modest lanky exterior. Obviously though he had been wrong for his best friend seemed perfectly content straddled atop him, causing the bed to rocking back and forth as she continued to bounce up and down on his wolfhood.

But the most amazing thing about this impossible moment was the very image of the ever right and proper Hermione Granger as she was perched atop him, his mighty shaft moving in and out of her tight depths as she roughly pawed her large breasts and pinched her rosy nipples; it was such a forbidden sight and she looked so incredible for it. In fact she was quite possibly the hottest girl in Hogwarts, she was just so perfect in every way and the delectable feel of her hot pussy as she repeatedly impaled herself on his dick was beyond thought.

“YES, OHHH YES! UHHHHHHHHHHHH! OH! Fuck me Harry I want you to fuck me! Fuck me!” Hermione continued to cry, rocking back and forth vigorously in tune with her canine lover’s powerful thrusts; causing waves of delicious ecstasy to consume her body. “OHHHHHH! YES! OH MERLIN YOU’RE SO GOOD! SO GOOD! I’M CUMMING! OH I’M CUMMING!!!!!!!!!!!!”

It had crept up on her so fast that she never realised until her orgasm was upon her, its waves of burning pleasure washing through her like a great tsunami; consuming everything in its path and turning her into a lifeless mass of pleasure as it worked its unique kind of magic.

Harry could only watch in fascination and slight disappointment as his friend ceased her wild motions, her lustful eyes widening as she realised a high-pitched moan that hurt his sensitive ears. He had been so close and if she could of hung in there for a little longer; but no and now not even the wondrous sensations from her contracting inner walls could relieve him.

No longer able to support herself on her shaking limbs, Hermione collapsed on the panting Harry; his still erect length buried deep within her convulsing depths. However, only when the winged books floating over her head had finally vanished from view did the witch realise her folly and quickly looking up at the wolf’s eyes; she asked nervously “Harry did you…um… release?”

Shaking his furry head negatively, Harry barely gave her enough time to utter the phrase “Well would you like me to…” before suddenly rolling them over so that he was on top. She had had her fun and now it was his turn to play.

* * * * * * * * *

“OH MY GOD! …MORE…HARRY… OH…FUCK…GIVE ME MORE! OH…OH…OH…OH…OH YES!” Hermione cried out as Harry practically rammed her into the old oak bed; A deep grunt originating from his throat as he accomplished her request, forcing himself even deeper inside her burning centre with every motion.

It had now been over three hours since Hermione had walked into the room to find Werewolf Harry waiting for her, but neither sex crazed witch or instinct driven canine cared; all that mattered was the sex. Like Hermione’s control, the genteelness in the act had long since dissipated and all that was left was the pure primal desire that flowed through the couple like the pleasure it caused.

Grunting and panting, Harry ferociously thrust his cock deep into Hermione’s pussy at a speed only another werewolf could match but she was so hot and tight that he could barely control himself. Although she was begging for him to go harder, the adolescent canine knew he couldn’t go much further while they were locked in this position for risk of crushing her; her skin was sweaty and it would be all too easy for his front paws to slip off her smooth back and result in his entire mass collapsing on top of the sex starved witch.

“OH FUCK! Fuck me hard! Oh yesssss you’re sooo fucking GGGOOOODDDDD!!!!!!!!” The witch continued to moan, her once brilliant mind totally lost in the vortex of pleasure she was experiencing; before the wolf had felt so big and hard inside her but now he was filling her like nothing she could have ever imagined. In all her life, the witch had never felt so much sexual energy coursing through her system; so much so that she could even sense his thick cock pulsating and stretching her velvety walls every time he entered her.

Inhaling great amounts of her intoxicating aroma with his every breath, Harry continued to fight against the near overwhelming urge to lose control as he continued to penetrate his human mate from behind.

“OHHH! FUCK! YES!” Moaned Hermione wantonly, she could feel both her mind and body slipping away as the werewolf’s hard shaft continuously thrust inside her tight tunnel and brought her closer to her final and very magical orgasm as words pouring from her mouth without thought. “SO CLOSE! PLEASE FUCK ME! OH! SO FUCKING CLOSE!”

However, before her limbs could give way Hermione had to almost lunge forward to grab the bed’s oak headboard as Harry continued to ruthlessly ravage her burning centre; using the sturdy wooden structure to support her tired body.

Unrelenting in his motions, the stream of curses continued to flow from Hermione’s lips as Harry continued to savagely fuck her; her pleasure blinded pleas like music to his ears and served only to drive him on like a carrot to a donkey. However, as he did the wolf noticed that the Witch’s grip on the headboard seemed to tighten with his every thrust until he wondered if she might tear great chunks out of the wooden furniture.

“YES! YES! OHHHH! ALMOST…THERE! OH! FUCK ME HARRY! OHHH! YES! FUCK ME!” Screamed Hermione, her voice know reaching a pitch that even Harry’s heightened Werewolf hearing couldn’t hear as she rapidly approached her climax.

Happy to obey, Harry never hesitated and started pummelling her slick entrance as fast and deep as he could; his powerful hips slapping loudly against her shapely buttocks as their minds were became lost in the fog of pure ecstasy that clouded their mind.
“OHHHH FUCK YESSSSSS! I’M CUMMMMING! OH FUCK I’M CUMMING! UHHH!” the sexy bookworm screamed, throwing her head back as a fresh gush of her burning seed washed over the wolf’s cock and at last; for the first time that night Harry was with her. The mixed sensations of her burning heat and convulsing walls throwing him over the edge and made him exploded inside her.

Releasing her grip on the bed’s headboard, an exhausted Hermione Granger collapsed onto the bed of pillows; her spent mind failing to register anything the pillows soft embrace and the relaxing feel of Harry’s shaft still embedded within her as she fell into a deep sleep.

* * * * * * *

Harry and Hermione both slept through out what remained of the night, not waking until well after the moon had withdrawn into the shadows and the creeping warmth of dawn had consumed the land.

Unconsciously stretching out as she drowsily rolled onto her side, Hermione felt a sudden chill run down her spine and began blindly searching for the mass of soft warmth that had been serving as both her pillow and quilt. However, it was nowhere to be found and still too tired to really care; the witch rolled back and was about to nod off when she opened her eyes to a sight that woke her up faster than a bucket of ice cold water.

Harry was looking over her with a look of such fear and terror in his emerald green orbs that she thought the dark lord himself had just knocked on the bed door.

“Harry…what’s the matter?” Hermione asked in a concerned tone, temporarily forgetting that they were both utterly stark naked as she began to sit up.

“Hermione…last night… we didn’t…I’m so sorry… couldn’t control it…” stammered Harry, obviously not knowing where to begin as he tried to explain himself. However, Hermione could only smile as she released what he was trying to say and wanting to get her chance to speak; she suddenly took hold of his chin and pulled the teenage werewolf in for a very silencing kiss.

For several moments, he didn’t respond to the gesture, but he didn’t push away either and that was she needed to know that Harry had calmed down enough for her to talk. However, not wanting to brake the intimate contact just yet; she took her time in pulling away before locking her eyes to Harry’s and saying a little breathlessly “Harry, you have nothing to be sorry about; I wanted everything that happened between us last night. I’ll admit it wasn’t exactly the way I imagined our first time but I wouldn’t swap it for anything.”

Relieved by her heartfelt words, the last traces of concern quickly left Harry’s face and Hermione had no trouble coaxing him back down onto the bed while she made herself comfortable in his surprisingly muscular arms.

Content to just lay there in his arms while practically purring in pleasure as the wizard placed soft kisses on the back of her neck, Hermione slowly mused over what had happened between her and Harry; remembering every blissful sensation he had caused within her belly. But there was something she still didn’t understand…

“Harry, how did you become a werewolf?” The words passed her lips before she could even stop them and the she instantly regretted it when a moment later she felt Harry suddenly stop his motions. Why couldn’t she learn to just keep her big mouth shut?

“It happened the night Professor Dumbledore died, Greyback tackled me and thought it would be fun to take a bite out of the boy who lived.” Harry explained, his voice heavy as he recounted the dark moment. “I didn’t tell you or Ron because I thought I’d have similar symptoms to Bill, something I could blow off as just being a new taste; boy was I in for a surprise.” At that he released a dry laugh which despite the context sent a shiver of desire down Hermione’s spine. “So Hermione, do you think you could ever grow to love a cursed teenage werewolf like myself?”

Not hesitating, Hermione practically tackled Harry to the bed and gave him a passionate kiss that reawakened his arousal. Need she say more?

The End