Resident Evil: Blacklight

As we crept into the train, weapons drawn, an eerie silence greeted us. The air was heavy with the stale scent of decay, and the dim lighting only made the shadows seem alive.

"It's too quiet." I muttered, scanning every corner with narrowed eyes.

"There must be someone in the next car." Rebecca replied, stepping cautiously toward the door.

"Don't rush in." I warned, my gut churning with unease.

We pushed forward, the creak of our boots on the polished floor amplifying the silence. Then, faint, muffled voices came from further down the train.

"This is Officer Chambers from S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team. Please identify yourself." Rebecca called out, her voice firm but calm as we moved down the aisle.

Slumped across one of the seats, a man lay motionless.

I approached him slowly, the smell hitting me before anything else—a foul, putrid stench that clung to the air like death itself.

"Rebecca..." I trailed off, my voice low as realization struck. The man wasn't just unconscious—he was rotting. His flesh was sunken, torn in places, revealing jagged, yellowed bone.

She gasped, her hand instinctively covering her mouth. "What…what could have done this?" She whispered, the disbelief plain in her voice.

"I don't know." I replied, scanning the compartment for signs of movement. "But whatever it is, we're not dealing with normal."

Rebecca crouched, her eyes catching a portable radio on the floor. "The voices…they came from here."

As her fingers brushed the radio, the corpse jerked violently, letting out a guttural snarl as it lunged toward her.

"Rebecca!" I grabbed her arm, yanking her back just in time as the creature's clawed hand swiped the air where she'd been.

"He's alive?!" Rebecca exclaimed, her voice rising in shock.

"No," I said grimly, aiming my gun. "He's not alive. Not anymore."

The man—or what was left of him—staggered to his feet, his jaw hanging loosely, growling like a rabid animal. Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger, the shot echoing through the car as the bullet tore through his skull.

The body collapsed in a heap, twitching as dark fluids pooled beneath it.

"Move!" I barked, but before we could retreat, more bodies began to stir, the low groans filling the car as the dead started to rise.

"This way!" Rebecca shouted, darting toward the rear of the car.

"And what, find more of them?" I snapped, firing a few rounds to slow the advancing horde. Despite headshots, some of them still managed to claw their way forward.

"It's better than getting overrun here!" She retorted, forcing open the next door with a strained shove.

I followed, covering our retreat as the door creaked shut behind us, sealing the dead on the other side. Rebecca leaned against the wall, her breaths shaky.

"What the hell just happened?" She asked, still wide-eyed. "They were...dead."

"They still are." I replied, peering through the window into the previous car. The figures scratched and moaned at the glass, their movements erratic and inhuman.

Rebecca straightened, trying to steady herself. "We need to warn the others."

I nodded, pulling out my walkie-talkie. "Captain Enrico, do you copy? Over."

Static crackled in response.

"Edward, do you copy? Over." I tried again, frustration creeping into my voice.

Rebecca frowned. "They should've responded by now."

"Yeah." I clenched the device tightly. "Something's wrong."

"Maybe they're just distracted." Rebecca suggested, though her tone betrayed a hint of doubt.

I shook my head. "No point standing around. Let's keep moving."

She nodded, glancing down the dim corridor. "Do you think there'll be more of them?"

"Can't be too optimistic." I replied, taking the lead.

"It's just…I don't understand how they're even moving." She mumbled, her voice low.

"Me neither." I admitted, stopping at a nearby door. "But our focus should be on getting out of here alive." Carefully, I nudged the door open, scanning for any immediate threats.

"I'll check the other one." Rebecca offered, heading to the next door.

"Be careful." I called after her as I stepped into the room.

Inside was a small, cramped space—a bunk bed against the wall, a table with scattered belongings, and a corpse lying face-down on the lower bunk.

I approached cautiously, nudging the body's head with my gun. When there was no movement, I leaned closer, inspecting the remains.

The corpse's posture suggested it had been attacked in its sleep. A sickly gray slime clung to the body, coating it just like the ones we'd encountered earlier.

'What is this stuff…?' I thought, grimacing at the sight.

"Alex! Over here!" Rebecca's voice rang out from the adjacent room.

I rushed over, finding her holding a bloodstained file in her hands. The room's layout mirrored the one I had just left, but its eerie atmosphere felt heavier.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Some kind of investigation report." Rebecca replied, handing me the file.

The paper was smeared with blood, making parts illegible, but the remaining text was clear enough to piece together the basics.

'A closed training facility…potential reopening…' I read through quickly until my eyes caught a name near the bottom. Even though it was mostly obscured by dried blood, I recognized it immediately.

'William Birkin…' I mused, my grip tightening on the paper. 'He's involved in this. But why…? Everything was destroyed in the explosion.'

"Alex? You okay?" Rebecca's concerned voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah…I just…" I exhaled sharply. "I don't even know what to think about all this." I dropped the file, letting it flutter to the floor.

"I get it. I don't either." She said softly, managing a small smile. "But we'll figure it out together."

Her optimism earned a short laugh from me. "Us against the world…or the undead, in this case."

"Don't remind me." She sighed. "Let's keep moving."

We proceeded down the corridor toward a locked door requiring a key card. Beside it, a dead man sat slumped against the wall, his body torn apart and bloodied. His hand gripped something tightly.

Kneeling down, I pried his stiff fingers open, revealing a small key.

"What's that for?" Rebecca asked, leaning closer to look.

"Not sure." I replied, straightening up.

Before I could say more, the sound of footsteps echoed behind Rebecca.

"Watch out!" I barked, and we both spun around, our eyes locking onto a familiar figure. He was pointing a pistol right at Rebecca's face.

"Billy Coen…" Rebecca muttered, stiffening under the threat.

"Pretty good instincts." Coen remarked, his tone casual despite the tension.

I slowly tried to reach for my gun.

"Souldn't do that." Coen said sharply, flicking the barrel toward Rebecca. "She's the one who gets it if you try."

I slowly raised my hands, keeping my movements deliberate. "Easy there. No one's pulling anything here."

"You two with S.T.A.R.S., right?" Coen asked, his gaze flicking over our uniforms.

"Yeah, and you're supposed to be with the prisoners, aren't you?" I quipped, hoping to keep his focus on me.

He chuckled, though the humor didn't quite reach his eyes. "Guess so. Though things didn't exactly go as planned."

Rebecca stayed eerily calm, her voice steady as she asked, "You were with those soldiers outside. Did you kill them?"

"No, believe it or not." Coen replied with a shrug, though his tone carried a hint of exasperation.

"Sorry, but that's a tough sell." I shot back, narrowing my eyes.

"Well…" Coen said, backing away slowly, his gun never wavering. "It seems I'm not welcome here, so I'll take my leave. I'd lower the gun, but I'm pretty sure you'd shoot me if I did."

"Just your imagination." I retorted, smirking.

"You can't leave!" Rebecca snapped, stepping forward. "You're under arrest!"

Coen raised a hand, showing the dangling cuff still attached to his wrist. "Been there, done that." He gave a sardonic grin. "Don't need a repeat."

Without another word, he slipped out the way we came.

"Damn it, we let him escape!" Rebecca muttered, clenching her fists.

"It's fine." I said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "We'll run into him again. No doubt about it."

She glared at me. "You're too relaxed about this. What if he'd shot us?"

I shook my head. "No, he wouldn't have. His tone, his body language—he didn't see us as a real threat."

"And you're so sure of that because…?" Rebecca asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Call it a hunch." I replied with a shrug, feigning nonchalance.

Rebecca sighed, rolling her eyes. "Of course. A hunch."

We trudged on, following Coen's trail through the train.

"You think he was lying? About not killing the soldiers, I mean." Rebecca asked suddenly, her voice breaking the tense silence.

I glanced at her. "No. I just didn't feel like giving him the satisfaction of the actual answer. What about you? Think those wounds looked like something he—or even animals—could've done?"

Rebecca hesitated, her gaze darting to the floor. "After seeing these zombies? No, I don't think so."

"Seems we're of the same mind." I said as we returned to the previous car, finding the zombies now strewn across the floor, lifeless once again.

"Did Coen take care of them?" Rebecca exclaimed in surprise.

"Looks like it. Guess he didn't become a lieutenant for nothing." I replied, and we moved on to the next car.

This one was pitch black, with only our flashlights cutting through the suffocating darkness.

"Where could he have gone?" Rebecca mumbled.

Her walkie-talkie then crackled, cutting her off with a burst of static.

She quickly raised it. "This is Rebecca. Over."

"Rebecca, can you hear me? This is Enrico. What's your location? Over." Came the distorted voice of Captain Enrico.

"We're inside a train, Captain! And listen, this is going to sound crazy, but there are dead bodies coming back to life! Over!" Rebecca shouted, urgency clear in her voice.

"Rebecca, I can't hear you clearly. You're inside a train? Is Mercer with you? Over."

"Yes, he's with me!"

"Alright, listen closely. We've obtained detailed information on the fugitive from a document found in the wrecked wagon. Billy Coen killed as many as 23 people. Over." Enrico's voice crackled again.

Rebecca froze, her grip tightening on the walkie-talkie. "Twenty-three people…" She muttered, her expression shifting to one of unease.

Enrico continued, his voice growing faint. "We've also confirmed that he was institutionalized. Keep your guard up. Can you both hear me? Stay alert. He wouldn't think twice about killing you."

The walkie-talkie buzzed with static, Enrico's voice cutting out entirely.

"Captain? Hello? Enrico, can you hear me?" Rebecca shouted into the device, but the static persisted.

"Guess we're on our own again." I muttered with a sigh.

"We need to find him." Rebecca said firmly, her tone brooking no argument.

"Yeah." I nodded, though Enrico's warning lingered in my mind.

We entered the next car. On the left, a staircase led upward, while to the right, a metallic gray door loomed.

Before we could decide our next move, Coen descended the stairs, hands raised in mock surrender.

We immediately aimed our guns at him.

"No need for hostility." He said, raising his hands. "Things are about to get a lot more dangerous. How about we work together?"

"Cooperate with you?" Rebecca scoffed, her gun still trained on him.

I stayed silent, studying Coen carefully.

"Listen, girl. If you haven't noticed, there's some seriously freaky stuff going on here. We're not going to survive on our own." He exclaimed, leaning casually on the railing.

"You expect me to trust a wanted felon?" Rebecca snapped.

"Rebecca, he has a point." I interjected. "We need him alive anyway, and more numbers might improve our chances. Let's give it a shot."

"He'll stab us in the back." She argued.

"I don't like it either, but if it comes to that…" I locked eyes with Coen, my voice low and cold. "I'll deal with him."

Coen chuckled. "Trust me, I'll be on my best behavior. So, what do I call you two?"

"Rebecca Chambers." She replied curtly. "But that's Officer Chambers to you."

"Alex Mercer." I added dryly. "And don't get too comfortable saying my name."

"You know…" Coen said with a smirk. "This might not be as bad as I thought it'd be."

"So…shall we go?" Coen gestured towards the staircase.

"After you." I made a sweeping motion towards it.

"Pfft, what a gentleman." He muttered under his breath as he ascended the stairs. Rebecca and I followed close behind, weapons at the ready

…

The upper car was starkly different. Tables sat neatly arranged, their surfaces polished but eerily devoid of life. At the far end, an elderly bold man sat hunched over one of the tables. A slow, flickering flame ignited at the tablecloth beneath him.

Rebecca moved closer, her steps cautious but curious. The man's complexion was pale but looked better than the other bodies we'd seen so far.

"Rebecca." I warned, my voice low. "Stay on guard."

"He doesn't look dangerous." She said, lowering her gun slightly. She took a hesitant step closer. "Excuse me, sir?"

The man remained motionless.

Rebecca then gently tapped his shoulder. What happened next froze the air in my lungs. The man's head detached from his body and rolled onto the table.

"What the hell—?" Rebecca recoiled, her voice quivering.

"Rebecca, get back!" I shouted, raising my weapon as the man's body collapsed and began dissolving into a puddle of writhing, dark sludge. The substance began to take shape—hundreds of leeches spilled out in a grotesque cascade.

Rebecca screamed as the swarm surged toward her, latching onto her arms and legs in slimy, squirming masses.

"Damn it, girl! Move!" Coen barked, his gun firing off quick, precise shots. The force of the bullets knocked some of the leeches off her, but more kept coming.

I surged forward, grabbing Rebecca and dragging her away from the swarm. "On your feet! Let's go!" I shouted, forcing her upright. We stumbled backward as the mass of leeches began to scatter, retreating into the car's shadows.

"Are you okay?" Cone asked her.

Rebecca shivered, brushing remnants of the slime from her arms. "I'm…I'm fine." She said, her voice shaky, giving a weak thumbs-up.

I let out a breath, the tension in my chest easing slightly. "Don't scare me like that again." I said, punching her lightly on the shoulder. "I can't finish this without my partner."

Rebecca managed a weak smile. "I know you can't."

Coen shook his head, holstering his weapon. "Next time, listen when someone tells you to back off, kid."

Before anyone could respond, a flash of lightning illuminated the world outside the car. Through the window, a figure emerged—a tall man with long, dark hair stood on a nearby hill, his presence almost spectral as the storm raged around him.

"Who's that?" Coen asked, his voice lowering.

"Nobody we'd want to meet." I replied, keeping my eyes locked on the figure. Something about him sent a chill through me, deeper than anything the leeches had done.

Our grim observation was interrupted by the sudden jolt of the train lurching forward. Rebecca stumbled, gripping the side of a table for balance.

"What's going on?" She asked, her voice edged with panic. "Who's controlling the train?"

"No idea." Coen said, glancing toward the windows. "But if it's moving, someone's gotta be at the controls. You two should check the engine car."

"And what about you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I'll check the roof." He said. "Apparently the power switch is placed there."

"You got a way to communicate?" I asked, already suspecting the answer.

He shook his head. "Moat of the gear got wrecked in the crash."

I sighed, pulling my walkie-talkie from my belt and tossing it to him. "Take this. Don't lose it, and don't think about running."

Coen caught it with a smirk. "Relax, I'm not going anywhere."

"If you try anything funny, I'll shoot you myself." Rebecca added, her tone still icy.

"Geez, you guys are all sunshine and rainbows, huh?" Coen muttered, climbing through a window and hoisting himself up the ladder leading to the roof.

Once he disappeared, I turned to Rebecca. "Let's get moving too."

With a nod, she followed me as we descended back down the staircase.

"Where would the engine car be…" I mumbled, scanning the corridor.

"Let's try the other path. It should be further ahead, right?" Rebecca suggested, pointing to the metallic door.

"It's worth a shot." I agreed, and we both approached the door, which slid open with a faint hiss.

"This place has automatic doors?" I raised an eyebrow. "Fancy. Let's hope we don't find any of those undead in here. I'd rather avoid another fight."

Rebecca frowned, glancing around the dimly lit kitchen. "This train should be filled with people, right? Chances are there are more of them waiting...or worse."

Before I could respond, her walkie-talkie beeped, crackling to life.

"Hm?" Rebecca glanced at it. "This is Rebecca. Over."

"Rebecca? This is Coen. I'm…stuck." Disappointment was thick in his voice.

"You're stuck? Over." Rebecca tried—and failed—to stifle a laugh.

"I got the electricity running, but then more of that slime appeared jumping at me and I fell through a crack in the roof. Now I'm in some kind of office and the door's lock has something budged inside. I need something sharp to open it."

"Where are you?" I asked, cutting in.

"No idea. There's a small elevator here, though. I sent down a key, might be useful to you. Should be there now." Coen explained.

Rebecca moved to the nearby service elevator and opened it, revealing the key nestled inside.

"Found it. Over." She replied.

"Great. Just hurry up. I feel like the walls are closing in on me." Coen muttered, his voice tinged with irritation.

I rolled my eyes. "Stop whining. You'll be fine."

Rebecca chuckled as she slid the walkie-talkie back onto her belt.

"We should pick up the pace. Wouldn't want our princess to have a panic attack." I shook my head with a sigh.

As she went to open the door to the next car Rebecca paused, her voice lowering. "You got friendly with him way too quickly, you know. He's a criminal."

"I do. And believe me, when this is over, I'll have no problem dragging him to a cell. For now, let's just survive." I crouched beside an access panel tucked next to an industrial refrigerator, inspecting the screws holding it in place.

I tried prying it open with my hands, but it wouldn't budge. "We need a tool for this."

"The next door is blocked too. So…we're heading back?" Rebecca sighed.

"Yeah. At least the path is clear already." I shrugged. "We've still got the key we found earlier. Maybe we missed a door further back."

With a resigned nod, we retraced our steps through the train. The silence felt heavier now, the absence of groaning zombies almost unsettling.

When we reached the previous car, I noticed a staircase tucked beside the wall. "A staircase…" I murmured, stepping closer. "I'll check upstairs."

"I'll keep checking the other cars then." Rebecca said, glancing back.

I handed her the key. "There were doors we didn't get to open at the end of the hall. If this opens any of them, call for me."

"Got it. Be careful." She said, flashing a quick smile before turning away.

"You too." I replied, my voice echoing faintly in the narrow space.

I climbed the staircase, the faint creak of the steps underscoring the tension building in my chest. The upper level loomed ahead, shadowed and quiet. Every instinct told me to stay sharp, weapon ready for whatever might be waiting.

At the top, I froze. Thousands of leeches, encased in gelatinous eggs, quivered and opened their grotesque eyes in unison.

"Shit." I muttered, my grip on the gun tightening.

But instead of swarming toward me, the leeches scrambled away, vanishing into the dim corners of the train like shadows retreating from the light.

"They ran?" I muttered under my breath, brows furrowed in confusion as I stared at the spot they had just occupied.

Shaking off the unease, I pressed on. "No time to dwell on it."

Ahead, a brown door blocked the way. It didn't budge, no matter how much force I applied.

"Guess I'll have to do this the hard way." I sighed, bracing my shoulder against it.

With a sharp shove, the door splintered, trembling on its hinges. I pulled back, gauging its resilience. "Just one more time…"

I rammed it again. This time, the door gave way with a loud crash, the broken panel skidding across the floor before smashing through a window. A low growl followed the chaos, and from the corner of my eye, I saw a zombie tumble out with the debris.

"Might've overdone it." I muttered, glancing back as the train car shuddered from the impact.

For a moment, I stared at my hands, a frown adorning my face. 'Just what made you believe I could be the one in control?'

A glint from an open wardrobe then caught my attention, interrupting my thoughts. Inside, a small brown box rested. Curiosity tugged at me, and I reached for it, flipping open the lid.

Nestled inside was a silver ring, its design intricate—a pair of beast heads carved on opposite sides, locked in a silent stare.

"A big day was ahead of you, huh?" I whispered to no one in particular. Pity didn't come easy for people like the ones who were on this train.

Footsteps echoed from the staircase, snapping me back to the present. I raised my gun, ready for anything.

"Alex!" Rebecca's voice called as she appeared in the doorway, her expression a mix of worry and relief. "Are you okay? I heard a loud bang, and then the train started shaking!"

"Relax." I said, lowering my gun. "Take a deep breath. I'm fine."

Rebecca exhaled, placing a hand on her chest. "What happened?"

"A swarm of leeches was up here. They broke through the door when I arrived, but then…" I paused, still baffled. "They ran off."

"Ran off? Why would they do that?"

"Someone must be controlling them." I speculated. "Maybe it's that guy we saw earlier."

Rebecca sighed, her shoulders slumping. "So, he's definitely not going to be friendly, huh?"

I gave a wry chuckle. "Given what we've seen? No. Let's stay sharp."

Rebecca then started to scan the room, her eyes lit up at the sight of a knife lying on the floor. She crouched down, picking it up. "Finally! I've got my own now!"

"Don't get too excited. A knife won't do much against what we've seen." I remarked.

"Hmph. You never know." She replied, pouting.

"Anyway." I changed the subject. "Did you find anything?"

Rebecca brightened. "Oh, yeah! The key worked. It opened the conductor's room!"

"Then let's move. No sense wasting time."

…

We reached the conductor's room, situated beside the door with a keycard reader. The room itself was cramped, cluttered with books, files, and a briefcase resting against the desk with a ladder right beside it.

"What's with this lock?" I muttered, examining the briefcase's two circular slots.

Rebecca peered over my shoulder. "Think there's something important inside?"

"Only one way to find out."

She crossed her arms. "Except we don't have the key for it."

I pulled the silver ring from my pocket, holding it up.

"Wait. Where'd you get that?" Rebecca asked, blinking in surprise.

"Found it upstairs. The lock is round, the ring is round...Worth a shot, right?" I replied, shrugging.

Sliding the ring into one of the slots, I heard a satisfying click. It fit perfectly.

"Huh. Guess I'm a genius." I muttered with a smirk, earning a playful punch to the shoulder from Rebecca.

"C'mon, Einstein. Let's see what's upstairs." She laughed.

We climbed the ladder beside the desk, stepping into what appeared to be a bar. Bottles lined the counter, casting faint reflections in the dim light.

"How does this train even have a second floor?" I asked, glancing around in confusion.

"Maybe the people who built it could remodel the RPD. Bet they'd make it feel bigger somehow." Rebecca joked.

"I wouldn't want to work with them." I muttered, scanning the room.

We took cautious steps down the hall, but something made me stop.

"Wait." I whispered, holding out a hand to Rebecca. "Do you hear that?"

Rebecca tilted her head. "Hear what?"

The faint screeching and clanging sounds from above grew louder, setting my nerves on edge.

"Stay here." I said firmly, gripping my gun.

"What? No way! I'm coming with you!"

"You're the medic." I reminded her. "If something happens to you, we're both screwed. Please, just stay put."

Rebecca frowned but relented. "Fine. But be careful."

"I will." I assured her, moving toward the end of the hall.

I cautiously navigated the narrow hallway, its dim lighting and oppressive silence pressing down on me. The faint smell of mildew lingered, likely from the floral arrangements perched on a small table by the door. My gaze locked onto something more practical—a screwdriver resting on a tray beside the flowers.

"This should be useful for Coen." I muttered to myself, pocketing the tool.

I pressed on, carefully testing the nearby doors. Most were locked, and given the earlier ruckus, I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. After passing through the cramped corridor, I found one door at the end that yielded to my grip. It creaked open to reveal a modest room with a sink, a wardrobe, and a desk by the far wall. But what caught my eye was the object resting on the bed.

"A hunting gun…" I murmured, stepping closer.

I picked it up, carefully inspecting its condition. Two rounds were loaded, and while it wasn't much, it was better than nothing.

"Only two shots. Gotta make them count." I muttered, slinging it onto my back.

Retracing my steps, I returned to the hall where Rebecca leaned against the counter, looking understandably restless. Her head snapped up as I entered, her expression quickly brightening. I gave her a thumbs-up, prompting her to pump her fist in triumph.

'Coen's next.' I thought, already planning our next move.

As I made my way toward her, the train gave a sudden, violent tremor. A chandelier swung dangerously, dislodging a nearby lamp that crashed onto the counter beside Rebecca.

"Ahhh!" She cried out, narrowly avoiding the falling debris.

"Rebecca!" I shouted, instinctively picking up my pace.

"Is the train going to collapse!?" She asked, her voice tinged with panic as she glanced wildly around.

Before I could answer, a sharp screech tore through the air. I looked up just as the ceiling buckled. Cracks spread like veins before claws punched through the surface. Then, with a deafening crash, the ceiling collapsed entirely, sending debris flying as something massive dropped into the hall.

A giant scorpion loomed before us, its grotesque form casting an ominous shadow over the room. Its claws clicked menacingly, while its segmented tail coiled, ready to strike. The creature let out a guttural screech that rattled my nerves.

"Alex!" Rebecca called out, her voice laced with concern.

"Stay back!" I barked, throwing a protective arm in her direction.

The scorpion's gaze—or what I assumed was its gaze—fixed on me, its tail twitching like a loaded spring.

"I can handle this." I reassured Rebecca, though my tone left little room for debate.

Drawing my handgun, I squared up with the beast. My other hand hovered near the hunting gun strapped to my back, ready to switch if needed.

"This thing's just another monster…" I muttered under my breath, my eyes narrowing as I took aim.