Totally Not a Video Game

Chapter 13 (RE2 [Remake - Claire])

If you had told me a few months prior to all the shit that has gone down, I would think you were insane. From being teleported into Resident Evil to surviving in Raccoon City. It is complete insanity.

Anyways, back to the current time. Stuck in Raccoon City, Jill is now infected, and Carlos was going to save her; the station was overrun by zombies, Marvin's now zombified, Leon's now dealing with G and Ada (I assume); Sherry was taken by Irons and now, I'm stuck with Claire.

Claire looked ready to murder Irons. She glanced up at me, her gaze slightly softening but her attention was drawn to the blood seeping through my clothing, "You alright?" She asked me, taking a few steps closer. Nodding my head, she didn't need to be worried about me. It must be a Redfield thing as she held the same look Chris would when he didn't believe what I was saying.

"I'm fine. Not exactly the worse injury I've sustained in this hellhole." I explained to her. It was her turn to nod before she glanced at the two doors where the lights above were green. Another thing I took note of was the young Redfield's attention trying to locate someone, "Don't worry about Leon. He managed to find a secret passage to get out. Haven't seen him since."

Claire seemed somewhat satisfied with the answer. She gestured for me to take the lead to one of the doors. Switching my gun around, I began to walk in the direction where Irons came out of. Stuck up bitch had his own private elevator so he could, probably, conduct business with the likes of Umbrella and other dodgy shit. Walking through the door, I noticed that this area was small and had a room off to the side.

My feet led me over to the wall, where the basement map was. Behind me was a metallic rattling followed by a string of curses from Claire, "The door's locked. Needs some sort of key with a diamond on." She explained before strolling to the side of me. Her hands grasped the newspaper article. There was a moment of silence as she scanned through the article before she slammed it down onto the aging table, "That bastard's the police chief?"

Whilst the question was rhetorical, I couldn't help but answer, "Yeah. That bastard is as corrupt as anything." She turned to look at me. From her expression, she could detail the cold look I had when talking about the Police Chief. Once again, silence fell upon us before she decided to comment, "I'll go find this key so we can start to figure how to get the fuck out of here. You should stay here and fix that wound. I know it's hurting you badly." She ordered, swiftly leaving so it gave me no room to argue.

Typical Redfield behaviour.

Slowly, I lowered myself to the ground, manoeuvring the backpack off of my bag so I could grab the med kit. Opening the bag, my hand rummaged blindly around in search of the first aid kit. Eventually, my hand grasped onto the smaller bag pulling it out of the backpack. Placing it on the ground, I began to search for the tweezers in order to rip the bullet lodged in my shoulder out.

The metallic tool came into my hand causing me to smile. Hopefully, Claire doesn't come back soon so she doesn't see any unnecessary blood. Pushing back the articles of clothing that were obstructing the wound, a small hiss escaped through my lips. The pain certainly got to me there. Ignoring the pain, I allowed the tweezers to enter the wound to pull the bullet out.

Luckily, the bullet hadn't gone far into my shoulder so the wound would be easily fixable in a short space of time. Gripping the bullet, I steadily pulled the bullet out and placed it onto the floor under the table. That wouldn't hurt anyone else. Unfortunately now, I was dealing the blood flow that now became a waterfall when its obstruction was removed.

Placing the tweezers back into the med kit, I got a stitching needle along with some thread. Once setting this small thing up, my hand started to shake. Why was it starting to shake now? Had I simply gained a conscious throughout this whole ordeal that allowed me to dwell over the death of my friends?