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aceghosts · 1 year

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DEAD MAN WALKING

Series Summary: In February 2005, Captain Hunter Delaney is tragically killed in action on a BSAA mission in Northern Canada. After their death, scientists and BSAA agents related to the mission start to die. Albert Wesker intends to find out who is killing them, hoping to use this stranger to his advantage. Rating: Mature Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Murder, Graphic Descriptions of Corpses, Betrayal by Teammates, Body Horror, and a conspiracy to cover-up Murder. I highly recommend you head the warnings. This is going to be a gory, brutal fic; it's primary genre is horror. If this isn't your thing, please avoid. If I forget to warn for anything, please let me know. Words: 5,904 words. Ships: No ships in this chapter, but this is intended to be an Albert Wesker x OC fanfic. Author's Note: It's finally here; the first chapter of Dead Man Walking! I really hope you enjoy this! I apologize if this chapter happens to be set-up heavy, I promise future chapters will be less so. Also, Chapter 1's title is from Bring Me The Horizon's Parasite Eve. AO3

CHAPTER 1: IF THE SUSPENSE DOESN'T KILL YOU, SOMETHING ELSE WILL

“Are we clear on the plan?” Hunter asks, shifting in their seat slightly. Through the opposite side helicopter window, they catch a glimpse of the stark white expanse of Northern Canada with little signs of life below. After the destruction of Raccoon City in 1998, some corporations, like the Sirona Corporation, relocated their facilities to remote areas to avoid a similar shitshow. However, like it always went with these fuckers, shit went FUBAR, and the BSAA was called in to deal with the mess. Hunter and their team were going to investigate the outbreak, helping any poor bastards still left alive. They shake their head, wondering how many more innocent people might still be alive if these corporations didn’t try to play God.

“Yes, we’ll enter the facility from the roof top entrance, determine the nature of the outbreak, and deal with any potential threats.” Arthur responds, his tone sharp and cold. He glares at Hunter, sitting in the seat across from them. Hunter’s frown deepens, uneasy concern settling in their chest. Arthur shouldn’t be here; they shouldn’t have let O’Brien talk them into taking him on the mission.

The door swings open forcefully as Hunter stomps into O’Brien’s office. “O’Brien, you can’t be fucking serious about Arthur being allowed to come on this mission,” They exclaim loudly, the door swinging shut violently, shaking the bookcases on the wall.

“Hunter…” O’Brien pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing at their outburst.

“Don’t ‘Hunter’ me. Ever since his actions in Europe, Arthur’s been more of an asshole than normal, which is a fucking achievement. And before you ask, I’ve tried playing nice. None of it fucking works. He barely obeys orders and doesn’t consider the safety of his teammates or civilians.” They cross their arms, letting out a frustrated sigh. Ever since that mission, Arthur had been different. Unhappy with how Hunter interfered, Arthur seemed unwilling to listen as if he wasn’t part of a fucking team. No matter how many olive branches they offered (and they tried-Hunter really did), Arthur was still a major asshole. A major asshole who was going to get someone killed.

“We’ve talked about this Hunter, but I can’t pull Arthur off the team…”

“Because you’re too much of a coward to go against his dad.”

O’Brien shoots them an unamused glare. “Senator Edwards is a major ally of the BSAA, which we have few of. I know you don’t understand this, but sometimes, you have to play politics, Hunter. You can’t brute force your way through everything.”

“What happens when politics gets someone killed,” Hunter seethes, uncrossing their arms and slamming their hands down on his desk, “What then? You gonna look the family in the eye of the person he killed? Or is that duty going to fall on me while you offer fucking platitudes?”

“Agent Edwards understands that if he makes another lapse in judgment like he did in Europe, he will be relegated to desk duty.”

Throwing up their hands, Hunter lets out a dark laugh. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, O’Brien, you make it sound like he’s a puppy who had an accident on the carpet. He needs more than fucking desk duty; He needs to be off my team.”

“Agent Edwards isn’t going to kill anyone. He understands exactly what kind of situation he is in. Understood, Captain Delaney?” Fuck it, O’Brien isn’t going to fucking listen.

“Mark my words, O’Brien. Arthur is going to kill someone, and when he does, I hope you know you’re just as fucking responsible.”

“And assist any survivors!” Kevin pipes in helpfully, next to Hunter, pulling them from the memory of their earlier conversation. Hunter nods encouragingly while Arthur scoffs. They shoot him a glare as Arthur rolls his eyes. The team needs to be a united front, especially if they are going to survive this mission. Even on the best days, dealing with outbreaks was dangerous and difficult, prone to going wrong in all the worst fucking ways.

“You think we’re going to find anyone alive?” Patrick asks doubtfully, sitting next to Arthur on his right.

“We need to be prepared for that possibility,” Hunter replies, knowing they could find any untold number of horrors within the facility, “We could find no survivors, or we could find a hundred. As the response team, we need to be prepared for anything.”

“I’m thinking it’s towards the lower end,” Natasha quips on Arthur’s left. Next to her, Arthur smirks, watching Hunter’s reaction.

Ignoring the bait, Hunter opens their mouth to talk more about the mission, only to be cut off by Vincent, their pilot. “Arrival estimated in ten minutes!”

“Everyone, check your gear. We don’t want anyone to go home in a body bag,” Hunter warns.

Approximately ten minutes later, Vincent lands the Helicopter on the roof, allowing the team to disembark. The roof is covered in a thick blanket of white snow, crunching beneath the team’s boots. Warm mist escapes Hunter’s mouth as they suck in a deep breath of air, trudging forward. Well, here goes fucking nothing. Everyone pulls out their weapons, preparing for the unknown behind the rooftop entrance. Natasha and Patrick flank the door on either side before Hunter uses the card provided by Sirona Corporation to open it. They push the door open with their left shoulder, reattaching the card to their belt. Flicking on the flashlight attached to their rifle, Hunter steps into the dark stairwell, holding their assault rifle in the ready position. Red emergency lights along the floor guide Hunter’s way as they slowly descend the stairs to the first door they see. Their team follows behind them, the door slamming shut as Natasha brings up the rear. Hunter looks over their shoulder, and everyone nods, indicating they are ready.

Pushing the door open slowly, Hunter’s flashlight illuminates the dark hallway, save for the small portions lit by emergency lights. The hallway is utterly silent; Hunter’s team moving in a careful and controlled manner. There are no signs of life. No survivors rushing into the hallway. No infected hurtling towards the team in a crazed frenzy. Looking down, Hunter spies a puddle of congealed dark red blood. They step around it, Arthur following behind them. As the team walks further into the hallway, all they find is destruction. Tables are flipped over, and medical supplies and papers are strewn all over the floor. Office windows are cracked, the cracks spider webbing out from the center. Some are even broken, splattered with blood and viscera, a stark reminder of the unyielding violence. It’s absolute fucking madness, and it makes Hunter so angry. These people should be alive, not dead because of fucking greed.

Hunter and their team move further into the hallway, eventually finding the body of a woman. Her dark brown eyes are glassy, wide open in fear. Her blond hair is matted with blood as she lies unnaturally still, throat torn open. Her fingers are caked in blood and flesh, probably from a desperate, futile attempt to save her life. Hunter sighs; the woman is dead. The longer they’ve worked on this job, the easier it is to tell the difference between the truly dead and the living dead. Arthur trains his gun on the woman as Hunter kneels, knowing there is no use checking for a pulse. “First casualty confirmed.”

“Not surprising after all we’ve seen,” Arthur responds.

“Do we need to put a bullet in her head? Ya know? To be safe?” Patrick asks.

Hunter shakes their head. “She’s dead, and I don’t want you to desecrate someone’s corpse by wasting a bullet.”

“We don’t have to use our guns,” Arthur slips his combat knife out, kneeling and planting it in her head. He pulls the knife out quickly with a loud squelch, wiping his knife on her black suit jacket. Standing up, Arthur holsters his knife, looking unbothered. “Now, we don’t have to worry.”

Patrick and Natasha share glances as Kevin looks worried, biting his lip. Hunter stands, exasperated by his actions. “Arthur, that was unces-.”

“I was just doing what needed to be done, Captain.”

They shake their head. “It wasn’t what needed to be done. We both know she was a corpse, not one of them.”

“We couldn’t know for sure. Sometimes, you have to make hard choices, Hunter. I know you really-.”

That’s fucking it! Seeing red, Hunter loses their cool, shoving their finger into Arthur’s chest and snarling, “I know all about making hard choices, Arthur! Don’t you dare lecture me on that!” Arthur’s expression turns dark, malice burning in his eyes. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Hunter needs to regain control of the situation. Now. “Listen,” They order, stepping away from Arthur, “From now on, no sticking corpses with knives unless you believe they might move. I don’t want anyone to get the drop on you because you’re too busy making sure the dead are dead. Be fucking smart about it.”

“Yes, Captain.” Everyone echoes. Natasha and Patrick don’t look convinced while Kevin seems relieved. They don’t even look over at Arthur, too pissed off to even spare a glance in his direction. Fuck, this was not going to end well.

The team descends further into the facility, the reality of the situation hanging over them like the blade of a fucking guillotine. Reaching the labs, Hunter’s stomach sinks, dread heavy in their chest. Corpses litter their journey downward, silence and echoes of violence their only companions. Uneasy, Hunter knows the infected will make their entrance soon. They always do, especially in the belly of the beast. As the team steps through the door of the emergency elevator with their rifles at the ready, a monotone voice announces over the loudspeaker: “ORANGE LEVEL THREAT! ALL PERSONNEL EVACUATE!” Red emergency lights light the way forward as Hunter motions for their team to spread out. The team moves into a V formation, stepping silently and slowly as they move forward.

Click.

Hunter stops, their feeling of dread worsening. Fuck.

Click.

They hold out their left hand for their team to stop. Everyone stops as the clicking noises continue, sounding like claws against hard flooring. Hunter looks to their left, meeting Arthur’s eyes. He nods, mercifully giving Hunter no pushback.

Click. Click. Click.

The Licker rounds the corner, unaware of the team’s presence. Hunter and their team have the drop on the Licker, but not for long. Motioning for their team to focus on the Licker, Hunter starts silently counting down with their fingers.

Three. Click.

Two. Click.

One. Click.

On zero, guns fire, shattering the stillness of the facility. The Licker screeches, an unnatural cry of terror and pain before it slumps to the ground, dead.

Click. Click. Click.Click.Click.Clickclickclick.

Shit, more goddamn Lickers. There always are fucking more. Two more Lickers race into the room, drawn to potential prey by the sound of gunfire, emerging from the same hallway as the last one. Hunter, Kevin, and Patrick fire into the Licker on the right while Arthur and Natasha take care of the one on the left. Gunshots ring loudly, mixing with Licker screams, echoing loudly in a gruesome symphony. The Licker in front of Hunter thrashes, succumbing to the hail of bullets. Looking towards the Licker on the left, Hunter finds it dropping to the ground, pretty much fucking dead.

Glancing over towards Arthur, Hunter catches sight of a third Licker, emerging from the shadows, Arthur seemingly unaware of its presence. The Licker screeches, pouncing toward Arthur like a lion on a gazelle. Without thinking, Hunter throws themself into Arthur, checking him with their shoulder. He grunts as the two crash to the ground. The Licker misses them narrowly; its claws coming too close to Hunter for their comfort. Natasha, Kevin, and Patrick both fire on the Licker, immobilizing it fairly quickly. Hunter scrambles off of Arthur and onto their feet, raising their rifle to shoot a final few shots into a dying Licker.

Sighing in relief as it collapses into a pool of its blood, Hunter turns towards Arthur. They hold out their hand to help him up, “We got lucky that time. Are you okay?” Despite Arthur being a major asshole, Hunter doesn’t wish for him to turn into Licker chow.

Arthur snubs their offered hand, gruffly replying, “I’m fine.” Hunter shakes their head, giving Arthur room to step past them. He kicks the head of the Licker, scoffing as if it wasn’t anything serious. “We should split up. Search the building in Teams.”

No way. Normally, Hunter would be for splitting up, but it just feels like a bad idea in this situation. “Arthur, are you fucking serious? The best plan is for us to stick together, especially if we’re already encountering Lickers.”

“If we continue as we are, we’ll never get through the base.”

“Splitting up might give us the chance to find more survivors too,” Patrick offers nervously, afraid to get between the two.

They sigh, knowing that Arthur and Patrick have a point, but they don’t have to like it. “Fine, Natasha and Patrick will go on one team. Arthur, Kevin, and I will go on another.” Together, Natasha and Patrick are a solid duo. Hunter trusts them together as long as they aren’t with Arthur. Besides, Hunter wants to keep an eye on Arthur during this mission.

“No, I should go with Natasha and Patrick,” Arthur sneers, shooting a dismissive look toward Kevin.

“Arthur-.”

He cuts them off, “I’m going. Natasha and Patrick, follow me.” Arthur walks off, toward the direction Hunter had ordered Natasha and Patrick.

“Fucking idiot,” Hunter shakes their head, “If he does anything, radio me immediately. Got it?”

“Yes, Captain,” Natasha states as she and Patrick go to follow Arthur.

Looking over toward Kevin, Hunter finds him with a wounded expression. When Kevin joined a year and a half ago, Arthur had been neutral toward him. After Europe, it was like a switch was flipped. Arthur started trying to make his life miserable. At first, Hunter tried the HR-approved route: reprimand Arthur, write reports to O’Brien, and take incidents to HR. Yet, no one did anything, and Arthur grew bolder. It mercifully stopped when Hunter, fed up with the system failing, snapped and broke Arthur’s nose. They were lucky Redfield and Valentine were there that day to pull Hunter off him. Otherwise, a broken nose and black eye wouldn’t have been the only thing he walked away with. Hunter got in trouble, but they considered it the best kind of trouble: trouble that was worth it. Meanwhile, they encouraged Kevin to get out of the BSAA, implying they would give him a glowing recommendation. Kevin was a good kid with a promising future on his shoulders. He didn’t deserve any of this fucking bullshit. “Come on,” Hunter pats his shoulder, trying to ignore the rising guilt, “We should get a move on.”

“I don’t understand why Arthur has it out for me.” Kevin sounds frustrated, clearly overwhelmed by this and the stress of the already fraught mission.

Hunter stops, Kevin stopping beside them. Turning to him, Hunter grabs his shoulder with their right hand, “You didn’t do anything Kevin. Arthur’s being an asshole. I promise I’m not going to let him hurt you, understood?”

He nods, slightly relieved. “Okay. Thanks for looking out for me.”

They smile. “That’s what teammates do. We’re supposed to look out for each other.” Hunter squeezes his shoulder comfortingly, before releasing him. “Come on. We should continue forward.”

—

Hunter and Kevin venture further into the labs, encountering little on their path. As they round the corner, Hunter hears something, motioning for Kevin to be quiet as he nods in response. They lead the way, holding their rifle ready. If needed, Hunter and Kevin would shoot, but Hunter hopes it was someone alive, someone who could shed some more light on what happened. They turn into the doorway, Kevin following behind them. In front of the pair, a scientist is loading samples into a briefcase, unaware of the two agents behind him. “Sir,” Hunter orders, their voice commanding as they stop moving forward, “Immediately stop what you are doing and raise your hands.”

The scientist stops, not turning to face Hunter or Kevin. He hums thoughtfully, glancing over his shoulder at the pair. His gray eyes narrow, derision clear in his eyes as he notices the BSAA patches on their uniforms. “BSAA Agents,” He replies, his gaze returning to the samples in front of him, “I’ll go with you, but these samples-.”

“No.” It will be a fucking cold day in hell before Hunter lets him take any of those samples outside of the facility. “They need to be destroyed along with the rest of the infected.”

“Destroyed?” The scientist hisses, finally turning to face Hunter and Kevin, sneering at them. “This is my work; it cannot be lost. Do you understand what we might lose?”

“If it creates bastards like the Lickers,” Hunter replies, raising an eyebrow, “I would consider it a win.”

The scientist snorts. “Of course, you would think it a victory. You’ve only seen specimens built for military application. What I aim to do will bring humanity into a new dawn, once I find the missing piece. One day, you will thank me for it.” Hunter glances back over their shoulder towards Kevin, who shrugs his shoulders. This guy was off his fucking rocker. The scientist scoffs, turning back to the briefcase. They hear it snap shut. “Obviously, you wouldn’t understand. You only seek to destroy out of fear because you cannot understand it.”

“Turn around, keep your hands in the air,” Hunter orders, moving closer until they were only a few steps away. They didn’t want to destroy his virus because they didn’t understand it. Hunter understands exactly what it was capable of. They want to destroy it because it will hurt and kill innocent people, something that Hunter was already too familiar with.

“I will acquiesce to your demands, Agent…,” The scientist stops, facing the pair with his hands by his side. His hands are curled into tight, still fists. He looks at them both expectantly, waiting for Hunter to give him their name.

“Captain Hunter Delaney and,” Hunter motions towards Kevin, “Agent Kevin Zhu. We are here to rescue or detain you, based on your perspective. You’ll be brought back to the BSAA for questioning and a medical examination by BSAA Medical Staff. I promise-.”

CRASH!

Hunter and Kevin both turn towards the door, Kevin shooting a glance at Hunter before returning his gaze to the door. “What the fu-?”

Something pricks their neck, followed by a sharp burst of pain. Hunter elbows the person behind them hard, hearing the scientist gasp and slam against the counter. Reaching up, Hunter pulls out what was stuck in their neck. They open their palm to find an injector. An empty one. Fuck.

They open their mouth to ask what the fuck he has done, but their throat tightens, intense pain consuming them. Howling, Hunter drops their gun and falls to the ground, writhing in pain. Every inch of their body feels like it’s burning. Their muscles spasm, heart beating out of their chest. Hunter’s screams stop, as they try to take in air, barely able to breathe or make noise. “CAPTAIN DELANEY!” Kevin yells, running towards them. He drops by their side, looking over them with concern. “What the hell did you do?”

The scientist chuckles, staying out of their view. “I did your Captain a favor,” He lets out another chuckle, “if they manage to survive the process.”

“What do you mean if they survive?”

The scientist enters their view, briefcase in hand. As he edges towards the door, he looks at Hunter curiously, almost as if he wishes he could stay. “None of the other subjects survived yet,” The scientist emphasizes the yet, watching Hunter with a deep fascination as they writhe on the floor. FUCK! Everything hurts so badly! Their skin feels tight, muscles constricting painfully. “Now, if you will excuse me-.“

“Don’t!” Kevin yells, only for the scientist to ignore him. He looks down at Hunter, conflicting emotions running across his face. “I’m sorry, Captain Delaney. I-.” Kevin stops, guilt overwhelming him.

Jaw locked tight, Hunter shakily raises their hand towards him, trying to assuage him of his guilt. Kevin’s eyes widen, taking their left hand into his own. It wasn’t Kevin’s fault; it was Hunter’s fault for not being more careful. “Okay,” He whispers, squeezing their hand in comfort. Good.

Hunter doesn’t know how long they spend laying on the floor, but it feels like an eternity, every inch of their body burning. All they can do is watch Kevin’s face contort in terror as their body convulses, painful cries escaping them. Eventually, the fire beneath their skin starts to dim, leaving Hunter feeling feverishly warm. Their muscles relax, allowing Hunter to finally move, their body sore. “Kevin…” They croak, trying to push themself up into a sitting position.

“Captain!” He sounds relieved, helping them up. Pulling their water bottle from their belt, Kevin helps them take a sip. “How are you feeling?” Kevin asks after they gulp water down like a dying man.

“Like fucking shit,” Hunter grumbles, exhausted by the simple act of drinking.

“I’m-.”

“Don’t.” Hunter doesn’t even have the energy to wave him off. “We need to find the rest of the team and get out of here. Help me up.” It hurts to speak, the act of speaking feels like rubbing sandpaper against their throat. Yet, Hunter pushes through the pain, knowing all they have to do is make it out of here. They’re going to make it out of here.

Kevin nods, pulling Hunter up to their feet. He slings their left arm around his shoulder, slightly taller than Hunter. “Where to-?”

“The control room,” Hunter takes a deep breath, swaying slightly next to Kevin. “Need to set off the purge sequence and then get out.” Fog swirls around their brain, their head pounding. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, it’s so fucking hard to think.

“That sounds like a good plan.” Shit, Kevin sounds scared.

“We’re going to make it out.” Hunter promises, trying to reassure them both.

“But, Captain, you’re inf-.”

“Don’t,” They snarl harshly, panic threatening to overtake them, “I’m not infected; I’ll be fucking fine. Do you understand?”

Kevin doesn’t look convinced as he replies, “Okay.”

—

Hunter and Kevin venture further into the facility, slowly making their way through the winding, labyrinthine hallways. Occasionally, the two duck into a room, hiding from any infected, mainly zombified lab workers. With Hunter’s current condition, neither is in any shape to fight back, leaving their best option to hide. Inhaling shakily, Hunter catches sight of themself in the reflection of a lab window. They’re deathly pale, so much more than normal. A sheen of feverish sweat coats their skin. Dark purplish-black circles form under their eyes, their normally faded green eyes appearing glassy. Hunter’s thoughts are slow, making them feel as if every thought or reaction is in slow motion. Taking another shaky wheeze, Hunter shivers, leaning closer to Kevin. They still feel like they’re on fire, the pain right beneath their skin. Their muscles are weak, leaving Hunter trembling and unsteady as they stumble on. Hunter’s back hurts, something pressing onto their spinal cord. Yet, Hunter feels as if they are being consumed, burned out until they’re nothing more than a hollow husk. Even if it’s a figment of their feverish mind, Hunter will not be consumed. They’re not infected; they’ve survived too much to die here.

“Captain Delaney-?”

“I’m fine,” Their voice is rough and hoarse, Hunter wincing at the stabbing pain in their throat. “We’re almost there.” Kevin doesn’t respond, wisely choosing to help Hunter continue forward. As they reach the outside of the control room, Hunter hears the sound of the keyboard clacking. Their head hurts, every clack a jackhammer slamming painfully into their brain. Kevin pulls out his pistol as they slowly approach the room and enter. Hunter spies a familiar face; one they’ve been itching to wrap their hands around his throat and strangle. “YOU!” Hunter snarls, reaching down for their own Beretta. They manage to pull the pistol out of its holster, only to fumble, dropping the gun as it skitters towards the door. Hunter growls, ripping their gaze away from the gun and back towards the object of their hatred.

The scientist turns away from his computer, raising a grey eyebrow in surprise. He checks his watch, returning his gaze to Hunter a mere few seconds later. The scientist stares at them with interest, making Hunter deeply uncomfortable. If he keeps staring, Hunter is going to punch him in the fucking face. “Interesting,” He muses, a slightly demented gleam in his eyes.

“What’s interesting?” And now the situation was truly fucked. Arthur steps into the room, Natasha and Patrick flanking him. He looks over at Hunter, frowning at their fucking pathetic state. “What the hell happened to you, Hunter? You look like shit.” Natasha and Patrick smirk at each other, like they’re fucking amused. Couldn’t fault Arthur about this one. Hunter looked like fucking shit; hell, they probably looked like they were on death’s fucking door.

“Really? And here I thought I looked fucking fantastic,” Hunter quips as Kevin eases them over to lean against the counter of the terminal. He steps away, almost fearful Hunter might collapse to the ground. Trying to stand up straighter, Hunter reassures their teammates, “I’m fine; I just need to have one of the Doctors at Headquarters look me over.” The scientist chuckles, shaking his head. Fuck.

“Why are you laughing? And who are you?” Arthur asks, pointing his gun toward the scientist.

“Dr. Charles Griffin,” As he speaks, Hunter notices his eyes never leave them, determined not to miss any detail, “Captain Delaney will not be okay. If they survive, they will be better than okay. If they don’t, well…”

“You’re wrong.” A foreboding feeling falls over Hunter, and they swallow, slightly swaying. What Dr. Griffin was saying wasn’t true. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, it couldn’t be fucking true. “I’m not-I’m fucking not…” They can’t get the rest of the words out, their throat tightening up.

“You’re infected, Captain Delaney. I’m sure you are competent enough to understand what that means.”

The world falls out from Hunter as they grip the terminal tightly, knees bucking underneath them. He’s wrong; They’re not infected. “You’re lying, You’re a fucking liar,” They plead, inhaling panicked breaths. Yet, Hunter knows that is not the truth. They’re infected, and there is only one cure for infection. A bullet in the fucking head.

“I am not lying, Captain Delaney. You know this,” His tone is harsh as if he doesn’t have time to deal with a dying person’s hysterics, “Although, you should have mutated by now. None of the subjects lasted this long.” He tilts his head, his gray eyes pensive. “I wonder if there is something special about you, Captain Delaney. To last this long means the virus has found something in you, unique to the other subjects.”

“What happened when the others turned?” Natasha asks, her voice trembling. Her eyes flicker over to Hunter, sympathy and fear both at war.

Dr. Griffin smiles, getting some fucking sick twisted pleasure from the team’s reaction. He turns towards the computer, quickly pulling up a video on the monitors for all to see. With little fanfare, he presses the button, the video playing. A man in his late twenties-early thirties is pacing around a white cell. Even through the not-so-great video quality, Hunter notices he is sweating profusely, feverish like they are. “What did you do to me?” He wheezes, swaying as he paces back and forth. Something grumbles, and the man groans, hunching over. Beneath his skin, Hunter sees something ripple along his spine. “WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?” He screams, an animalistic howl of pain and torture. Hunter’s breath catches in their throat as they realize it’s almost like something is moving beneath his skin. Another howl escapes him, and so much happens at once. The man mutates, bones cracking and skin ripping as he changes into a monster. They grip the edge of the terminal tighter, feeling faint. His screams are the worst sounds Hunter has ever heard, and they’ve heard some truly awful fucking sounds. He writhes on the ground, his body changing. Eventually, he stops, laying still for a few moments until he twitches, a sign that he is still alive. A fucking creature rises to its feet, two long appendages protruding from its wrists. The mutation marred the man’s face, his body distorted from the transformation. It had turned him into a tyrant, something Hunter was all too familiar with. The Tyrant looks up at the camera in the room. With a quick motion, it whips one of the appendages, causing the video feed to cut out.

Hunter looks over toward Dr. Griffin in pure horror, only to find him already looking at them. “My virus is not supposed to cause that. I’m missing something,” He pauses, a curious look in his eyes, “but it’s possible that I’ve found that missing component in you, Captain Delaney. I might have found the first perfect host for the virus.” Yet. Their stomach recoils, Hunter rejecting the idea. They weren’t some perfect host for an Evil Genius’ fucking demented virus.

“Is Hunter going to turn into that?” Patrick steps back, training his gun on Hunter.

“I’m not fucking turning into that, Patrick,” Hunter motions to the screen, “I mean, fucking look at me, Patrick! Do I look like a BOW to you?” Hunter wasn’t going to mutate; they would make sure of it.

“No.” Patrick lowers his gun, looking away in slight shame.

“What is the virus supposed to do anyway?” Kevin asks.

“My virus will extend our lives beyond their natural limit, slowing the aging process. It will make humanity faster, stronger, more intelligent. Obviously, I’m missing an essential key to this virus, but one day, I will revolutionize the world with it.”

“Oh? Is that all it’s supposed to do?” Natasha offers sarcastically. Her gun is lowered, but Hunter notices that it’s pointed in their direction.

“Yes,” Dr. Griffin snarls, “I’m not like that hack, Spencer and his ilk.” Another spasm hits Hunter and they let out a low groan. “You should probably do something about your Captain.”

Arthur raises his rifle at them, Natasha and Patrick following suit. “Sorry, Captain. I hope-.”

“WAIT!” Hunter yells, raising one of their hands as if they might fend off their inevitable death. “Dr. Griffin says most don’t last this long. We may have enough time to get me to the closest BSAA facility.” Dr. Griffin snorts derisively at the mention of the BSAA.

“And what’s to stop you from turning in the helicopter?” Natasha refutes.

“We can’t take the chance that you’ll turn or attack us. We have to do this for the good of the mission.” Arthur states coldly, but Hunter swears they hear something akin to ‘Fuck you, you hardass bitch’.

“There has to be a way to transfer them without them turning. Maybe, we can-.”

Hunter bitterly laughs, cutting Kevin off. “Don’t pretend you’re doing this for the good of the fucking mission,” They sneer at Arthur, “You’ve wanted to put a fucking bullet in my back since Europe. This just give you an excuse.”

“I think the virus is scrambling your brain.”

“Fuck Yo-.”

BANG!

Time slows as Hunter stops mid-curse, looking down at their torso. Spots of red appear; Hunter feels nothing at first. Unfortunately, Hunter doesn’t have long to dwell on that revelation, time resuming its course. More bullets hit their body, knocking them back onto the terminal. It all hurts so fucking much, their body feels like it’s being torn apart. Hunter tries to grab on to steady themself, but their fingers twitch uselessly, barely responding. Sliding down to the ground, Hunter finds themself propped up against the terminal.

“CAPTAIN!” Kevin screams, as Hunter’s eyes still focus on Arthur. He drops beside them, grabbing their right hand as Arthur, Natasha, and Patrick lower their guns. “No, don’t-don’t go.” Kevin pleads, gripping their right hand tightly.

It hurts. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, it all hurts so fucking much. Hunter draws a wet breath, their lungs filling with their own blood. They take another, choking on all that blood. Hunter’s brain screams desperately for oxygen as their heart sluggishly struggles to beat. The edges of their vision blacken, slowly creeping in as their consciousness diminishes. Hunter doesn’t want to go yet. Fuck, they’re not ready to go yet. Faces of family and friends flash through their mind as they fiercely cling to life. Death will not take them. Yet even Hunter Delaney finds that they cannot fend off death, darkness eclipsing their vision. Their consciousness fades into the ether as they drown in blood and pain, only feeling fear and rage as their final emotions.

Hunter Delaney dies for the first time.

—

Kevin sits numbly as the helicopter flies away from the Sirona Corporation facility. He stares down at the blood-stained dog tags, tags stained with Captain Delaney’s blood. It hits Kevin all at once, like a freight train. Captain Delaney is gone; they’re really gone. He tears his gaze away from the dog tags, looking out at the facility. A few seconds later, it explodes, flames and smoke shooting out. Eventually, the building collapses on itself, dust rising. His hand tightens around the dog tags, tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. Shit, what was Kevin going to tell Frankie? What was he going to tell any of the Delaney Family? Captain Delaney had been his mentor, and their family had become close to him. He was supposed to watch Captain Delaney’s back, and they died. It was his-. “There was nothing you could do for your Captain. They would have most likely died anyway.”

He looks up, glaring at Dr. Griffin. “Don’t you dare speak about them,” Kevin snarls, “Besides, we’re all responsible for their death, you included Dr. Griffin.”

Dr. Griffin shakes his head. “I know you are upset about the loss of your friend, but blame is very unhelpful.”

“Speaking of blame,” Arthur cuts in, glaring sharply at Kevin from Dr. Griffin’s right as he lowers his voice, “Captain Delaney’s death was tragic, but unavoidable. They were infected and mutating, giving us no choice but to kill them. Understood?”

Natasha and Patrick nod while Kevin stares at him in stunned shock. “You want me to-?”

“No,” Arthur shakes his head, his hand dropping down towards his pistol, “I want to make sure we all understand what happened on that mission.” Yet, the threat was left unsaid. Play along or you might be the next one to end up with a bullet in your back.

Kevin looks around, wondering if anyone else is bothered. Natasha and Patrick both look away from him while Dr. Griffin looks bored. Turning back to Arthur, who is watching him with cold eyes, Kevin quietly admits, “Okay.” The only person who would have looked out for him is dead. His gaze drops down to Captain Delaney’s dog tags. No one else is going to help him. Kevin is alone, utterly alone.

“Good. I’m glad we all understand what happened.”

Taglist: @sstewyhosseini, @detectivelokis, @mishwanders (If you want to be added or removed, just let me know!)

#Kate Writes #The Hunter Fic Tag #fic: dead man walking #Hunter Delaney #resident evil fanfic #albert wesker x oc #resident evil fic #biohazard fanfic #death tw #body horror tw #OTP: Love Me Mercilessly #I hope this came out okay #I'm actually really nervous about this #I promise that the future chapters will be better #I'm worried that some of the characters don't make sense now #But I'm planning to lay out their motivations over the fic #AHHH!!!! I'm just really nervous about this

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