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winksasleeplesseye · 2 years ago

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File #002 - Nightmare

City of the Dead

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x OC

Word Count: 3k

Fandom: Resident Evil

Summary: Amara learns the horrifying truth of what occurred at the Spencer Mansion, visits a few familiar faces to get answers, and meets a new soon-to-be familiar face.

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September 3, 1998.

It’d been a week and a few days.

Amara had been holed up in her apartment, watching life go by from her fire escape. Originally, she and Monet, her older sister, would spend evenings sitting out on the fire escape and talking about whatever came to mind. Of course, that was before Monet decided to go back to school at NYU, handing over the keys and the lease to Amara only a few months prior.

Sometimes, Amara wishes she had followed suit but she knows her heart would probably always lie in this line of work. Education is a noble pursuit, but the same could be said for working in a profession such as this one.

Amara scanned her eyes through her space, it was quaint but it was home.

She wasn’t much of an architecture connoisseur, but Monet is. It’s the only reason she knew that the building was constructed prewar as if she couldn’t tell from the appliances when they had first moved in.

With her salary now, she could’ve opted for something a little more modern, but nothing beat vintage.

Her eyes fall upon the manilla folder once more. The words on the cover are still the same glaringly, angry red as they were when she grabbed the file.

Amara had clung to the file, against her better judgment and Max’s knowledge, taking it back here but she still hadn't read anything from it. It sat untouched on her coffee table, already gathering dust as if it hadn’t been touched in years rather than days.

Why? She wasn’t sure, the title stood out clear as day but the churning in her stomach wouldn’t stop.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew what she would read wouldn’t be good. But curiosity gnawed at her like a dog gnawing at a bone.

She weighed the pros and cons again, the same way she did the very night she brought the file back with her. “Fuck it, rip it like a bandaid.”

Her eyes comb over every word, John certainly wasn’t the one who wrote this but whoever did almost seemed to take delight in recounting it all.

The file goes into gruesome detail, spanning even before the team’s involvement in May, detailing an outbreak of some sort within a lab underneath a Spencer Mansion outside city limits.

Amara recalls that they were tasked with this assignment at the beginning of July due to the bizarre attacks since that time in May. Most of the RPD and the teams chalked it up to cannibalism and cultists, but considering that she wasn’t present for the said mission, she never did get her answer until now.

It was reading to her that this wasn’t, in fact, cultists or cannibalism. Her stomach turned even more with every word, someone had recounted everything her team went through, what Alpha Team went through. It sounded like hell on earth.

The more Amara read about what had happened at the Spencer Mansion on July 24, the more she felt a mixture of disgust, shock, and disbelief. She had been one of the few members of the S.T.A.R.S. team to survive, alongside Jill, Chris, Barry, and Rebecca, but the cost had been high.

Amara's friends, and comrades, had been mercilessly slaughtered by the monsters that had lurked within the mansion. And now, as the truth became clear, she learned that it had all been orchestrated by their own captain, Albert Wesker.

The anger and the sense of betrayal that rose up inside Amara were almost too much to bear.

Wesker had been someone she had looked up to, someone she had trusted implicitly. He had his quirks, as most people did, but to learn his were more of the nefarious persuasion sent her into a spiral.

And now she realized that he had been using them all along, manipulating them for his own twisted ends.

She clenched her fists, trying to push back the overwhelming emotions. There was a pounding in her temple and the contents of her stomach threatened to come back up as a dry retch rose in her throat. Amara realized she was breathing fast with her eyes squeezed shut like her body was more than ready to pass out.

She took a few deep breaths, no longer hearing the blood pulse against her eardrums and her heartbeat beating more than a mile a minute, like a child afraid of the dark. Everything is fine for now.

Amara could only imagine her comrades' reactions to these revelations were much, much worse. But another thing that would endlessly confuse her was why she had been spared.

—

Amara was still reeling from what all the files had revealed to her. And her shock and grief were made even worse by knowing the very same Captain-no, Doctor, who they’d all looked up to, depended on, wanted their deaths. Their silence. Their battle data, whatever the hell it was.

All for Umbrella.

Survivor’s guilt gnawed at her endlessly, why had she been spared? Was she just lucky?

Quite frankly, Amara had grown impatient in waiting to hear back anything from Max after leaving them for him to look over. So, she does what any impatient person does, go to find answers herself.

Amara marches right through the halls of the RPD. To hell with the desk sergeant, she knows who she’s here to see and knows exactly where they are.

The “bullpen” - for lack of a better term, hasn’t changed a bit, not that Amara really expects it to within a short amount of time since her firing. Most of the officers she recognizes and they’re all going about their duties, making phone calls, filing paperwork, making reports…you know, boring stuff.

She notices Rita and another female officer gushing over a file on the former’s desk. Knowing her curiosity, Amara quietly sidles up behind them to get a view of what’s got them giggling. Though, her stealth skills have been a bit rusty lately so it didn’t take long for them to become aware of her presence.

“Moore, what are you doing here?” Rita haphazardly slams the folder shut on the desk before Amara can even catch a glimpse.

“Where’s Lieutenant Branagh? I need to speak with him.” She tries to put on a cheerful front, considering what she knows now. The last thing she’d want is to dampen the moods of the others.

The other woman answers, “Went to the library or something.”

Amara nods. “For something? Guess I’ll have to head-” In one quick motion, she snatches the file off the desk and turns her back to them.

“Hey!-” Rita whined, like a child that had their toy stolen from them.

“Come on, ladies! You know I love to be in on the fun even as a civilian!” Amara flips open the file, “Now, let’s take a gander at what has you both blushing.”

And that is when Amara meets Leon S. Kennedy for the first time. Well, on paper, at least.

Judging by the contents of the file, Leon is one of the new recruits joining the force in a few weeks. But, she can also see why the women were blushing and giggling all the same.

She would have to be blind to not notice the picture on file is doing him all the favors. She lets out a wolf whistle, reading over his info. Graduated top 10% of his class. High marks all around. Amara couldn’t help but be impressed and realized he wasn’t too unlike her in that regard.

A man truly after her own heart.

“He’s a looker, isn’t he?’ Rita asks, leaning her chin on Amara’s shoulder to take another look, though she already knows that the former knows the answer to that. Leon’s eyes are piercing even through a picture, and Amara’s face heats up the longer she stares.

“Are we sure that he’s an actual cop? I could swear I’ve seen a guy just like him on a GQ cover.” Amara points out as she hands the file back to Rita.

The other female officer, whose name tag reads Knox, jokes, “Well, that’s certainly not a bad thing when you see the cops we’ve got to work with around here.”

Eliot–who Amara remembers fairly well as a jerk–pipes up with a scoff.

“Please, you guys are exaggerating! It’s not like this guy is Leonardo DiCaprio.”

“Jealous, much?” Knox snickers.

Somehow, this devolves into a debate over someone none of them have ever met to said movie star. Unfortunately, Lieutenant Branagh just so happens to stroll back in.

And just so happens to zero in on Amara. Fair enough, considering she sticks out like a sore thumb among most of the uniformed officers. “Somehow, it’s always you causing trouble in my bullpen.”

The smile Amara wears comes off a tad dopey, “Me? Safe to say I’m innocent this time.”

She doesn’t hesitate to bridge the distance and hug Marvin. He’d become almost like a father figure to her and going a long time without seeing him was a tad bit of agony for her.

“You know Irons will have your head and mine if he finds out you’re here.”

“Well then, lucky for us both that this conversation will be quick.” She sends another small smile his way. “Even better, both our heads won’t be over his weird mantle in his office.”

That makes Marvin laugh briefly.

Amara always kept her interactions with Chief Irons brief, and she was glad for it. She’d met enough creeps in her life to know that he set off all her creep alarms, just thinking about the taxidermy animals he proudly displayed sent a shudder down her spine.

She shakes the thought of that man.

“That stuff I brought you and Max, any weight to it?” She asks in a hushed tone.

Marvin’s face reads of disappointment. “Irons discredited it and an Umbrella representative seems to have had evidence proving otherwise with John.”

Amara laughs humorlessly. “Oh, that’s such bullshit! There’s no way stuff like that can be discredited.” The emails. The files. All of it. Anyone who read those could easily see that Umbrella was not presenting itself as just a do-good pharmaceutical company, there was way more to it.

They used her teammates as test subjects for gruesome monsters.

“Well, he did.” Marvin shakes his head, almost as if he’s still in disbelief at what he’s saying. “I was in the meeting and saw it all.”

“And you believe it?”

“They didn’t give reason to believe otherwise,” Marvin said. His words mean one thing. But his face reads otherwise, clearly trying not to actually convince Amara of their side.

“Shit. Now what?”

“How about this? Go see Jill, she’s still in town. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to see you.” Marvin ushers Amara by the shoulders gently. “Maybe you two can gossip about the rookie you were ogling in my files.”

She can just hear the smirk in his words, letting out an exasperated sigh and rolling her eyes at the insinuation.

“Oh, my god. I wasn’t ogling, just curious!”

“Right, and Rita and Knox weren’t either, now get a move on!”

—--

Amara drove through the streets of Raccoon City, her eyes briefly scanning the people as they went about their daily lives.

There were couples holding hands, families with children, business people hurrying to their offices, and old folks sitting on benches. They were all so busy with their own lives, completely unaware of the horror that lie within their own city.

Amara couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding as she drove through the city.

She knew that something was coming, something terrible. But the people around her were blissfully ignorant, going about their days as if nothing was wrong.

She looked at them with a mix of pity and envy. Pity, because she knew what was coming and they didn't. Envy, because for a brief moment, she wished she could be like them, oblivious to the dangers that lurked just beneath the surface of their seemingly peaceful city.

As she pulled up in front of Jill's apartment building, Amara shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She knew she had to focus on the task at hand, on her mission to uncover the truth about Umbrella and their involvement in the Spencer Mansion incident. She got out of her car and made her way up to Jill's apartment, wondering what more Jill could tell her about everything.

Amara knocked three times, expecting to hear Jill at least answer, “Coming!” But she only heard shuffling, footsteps, and the locks being turned.

After a few moments, the door opened to reveal Jill, looking as though she had been up all night. “Oh, hey.”

The greeting sounded less like a surprise, and more like Jill had seen a ghost in Amara. “Come on in.”

Jill’s apartment had seen better days, Amara took in her surroundings, noticing the meticulous wall of evidence that dominated the space. There were maps and newspaper clippings, all with red strings connecting them in a spiderweb-like fashion.

Jill gestured for Amara to come inside, a small almost strained smile playing on her lips as she noticed Amara's curiosity. "I know it looks crazy," Jill said, "but I promise I'm not a conspiracy theorist."

Amara chuckled, following Jill further into the apartment. "It's impressive, actually. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so dedicated to their research."

Jill's smile faltered slightly, and Amara wondered if she'd said something wrong. But then Jill shrugged and said, "Yeah, well, after the mansion incident, I couldn't just sit around and wait for anyone else to do something. So I decided to take matters into my own hands."

“I guess you’re already aware of why I’m here then?” Amara asked, scanning her eyes over the pins on the wall.

“More or less. But you should probably explain anyways, so I know we’re on the same page.”

Once they were seated on the couch, Amara explained the reason for her visit. "I've been investigating the recent supposed suicide of an Umbrella researcher, John Clemens. He knew that Wesker sent S.T.A.R.S. to the Spencer Mansion to get hurt and retrieve battle data of B.O.W.s. He knew, or at least someone did, as far back as May what had been occurring and tried to become a whistleblower and send something out to us, but that was intercepted.”

Jill's expression hardened at the mention of Wesker. "I've been investigating Umbrella since then," she said. "We confronted Irons about what happened at the mansion. He didn't take it well."

Amara leaned in, intrigued. "What did he say?"

"He tried to brush us off, said we were making a mistake. But I know what I saw at the mansion, what we all saw and I know that Irons was involved in covering it up. I've been gathering evidence ever since.”

Amara nodded, impressed. "You're one step ahead of me. I didn't realize you'd been working on this for so long."

Jill smiled wryly. "I've been living and breathing this for a while. It's good to know Chris and I are not the only ones now.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Amara spoke up again. "Do you think Irons is behind the researcher's death?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," Jill said. "But we need more evidence if we're going to take him and Umbrella down."

Amara nodded in agreement. "I'll do whatever it takes to help. We have to stop Umbrella before they do any more damage."

“Agreed,” Jill gives her a small, sad smile. Both of them seemed equally haunted by the friends they had lost. But Jill had been in the thick of it at the mansion, while Amara was only privy to the knowledge secondhand, relegated to the sidelines.

"I'm sorry, Jill," Amara said quietly, breaking the heavy silence. "I wish there was more I could have done to help. I wish I had known all of this sooner.”

Jill gave her a closed-lip smile and placed a comforting hand on her own. "You couldn’t have known when you left, Amara. We certainly didn’t. We were up against something much bigger than us."

Amara nodded, her guilt weighing heavily on her. She had been so happy to escape even for a brief time from her duties that she had failed to be there when her team needed her most. And now, because of her choice, people were dead and the truth had been buried. She feels the slightest bit of disgust at the relief of not having been amongst them.

As they sat in silence, the static on the TV grew louder. Amara knew that she had to do more to make things right. If not for her, then for those who weren’t alive to do it themselves.

Jill seems to have noticed the look on Amara's face and spoke up. "Hey, you okay?" she asked.

Amara nodded. "Yeah, just a lot to take in," she replied.

Jill gave her a small smile. "I know. Listen, I'm leaving the city soon to investigate Umbrella. I think you should lay low for a little bit until we gather all the evidence we can and know more about what's going on."

Amara frowned. "What do you mean by 'lay low'?"

She was a bit confused by that, if anything, Amara had done nothing but lay low. Being in their line of work kind of gave her the skill of keeping quiet when necessary. Knowing the things they did, didn’t exactly allow for her to go running around like an idiot.

Jill shrugged. "Just don't draw too much attention to yourself. Stay out of trouble and don't do anything reckless."

Amara nodded, understanding what Jill was getting at. "Okay, I'll do my best."

Jill stood up from the couch and made her way to the door. "Stay safe, Amara," she said as she opened the door. "And keep in touch."

Amara stood up and hugged Jill. "You too," she said as she pulled away. "Good luck out there."

With that, Amara left, leaving herself with a moment to think about what she had just learned and what the future might hold.