Charity

Resident Evil: The Beginning - Chapter 2

Tue, 19 May 2009 05:14:36 GMT

Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, then I don't own them. I wish I did. Drivers who may or may not make an appearance: Jeff Gordon, Jimmie Johnson, Brian Vickers, Dale Earnhardt Jr, Martin Truex Jr, Tony Stewart, Denny Hamlin, Elliott Sadler, JJ Yeley, Jamie McMurray, Carl Edwards, Ryan Newman, Kyle Busch. Others may or may not make appearances. I don't know yet. I also do not own any of the characters featured in the Resident Evil movie trilogy. I DO however, own Charli.

My name is Kyle Thomas Busch. Most people call me Kyle, Rowdy, or Wild Thing. Charli calls me Ky. I only answer to Ky when I’m with her.

Charli is asleep right now, which gives me the opportunity to start telling my part of this story. You see, Charli isn’t the only one who is different. Yeah, I read what she’s already put down on paper. Like Charli, I didn’t realize I was different until later. If you ask me, I think something was done to us to force us to repress our knowledge of the things that make us different. But that’s if you ask me. Charli will tell you a different story.

I can vaguely remember being really sick and being sent to a big building with a red and white umbrella on it. It was some sort of hospital and my mom and dad said they’d make me all better. The weird thing is, the parents that I spent most of my life with, that I remember, are not the parents I remember taking me to that hospital. I never saw those parents again.

Like Charli said, I was handed off to a nurse who got me in a paper gown. Next thing I knew, I was in a cage. Not in liquid like Charli, I was in an actual cage. Like an animal or something.

“He’s awake. Shall I tranq him again?” The lab assistant glared at the boy in the cage. He was hoping the doctor wanted him tranquilized. He didn’t want to deal with this boy. He was dangerous, plain and simple.

“No.” Dr. Ashford said. “I don’t want him tranquilized anymore. He’s not a danger to anyone. Not in that cage anyways.”

“If you’re sure.” The assistant went back to monitoring this one’s vitals. He thought it was weird that they had two subjects that were high priority studies at once. But then again, he was just an assistant. He didn’t know anything about anything. He looked up in alarm as the boy rushed the front of the cage. It was different than the girl’s. This one wasn’t filled with liquid, and the boy had free reign to roam inside the cage. The girl was suspended from a harness and could not swim about or wander her cage.

“I’m sure. He’s all right. A bit frightened.” Dr. Ashford smiled. As with the Red Queen, the glass cracked but did not break. This one was also powerful, so he’d been told. However, Mr. Montrose said this one was not quite as powerful as the girl.

Side note – this is actually true. I’m no where near as powerful as Charli is. Charli is absolutely amazing.

“Ok, so what is this project called?” The assistant was growing bored with this. Like Red Queen, nothing had registered on the monitors when he’d cracked the glass. Probably didn’t require enough effort.

“What else? The Black King Project.”

Another side note – this is one project that you will never hear about in a movie. Very few people know about the project involving me. On occasion I’ve felt slighted by that, but then again, looking back on it, maybe it’s a good thing.

Dr. Ashford sighed. The Red Queen and Black King projects were going to take so much of his time. And he didn’t have time for this. He needed to be working on curing his daughter. His daughter was more important to him than anything else. His daughter’s illness was the only reason that he was working in this lab. He needed to find that cure!

He glanced over the monitor readouts. Again, not even a spike in brain activity when the boy had cracked the glass. The similarities were eerie, but Montrose had been specific that the boy was not as powerful as the girl. Ashford wondered how easily they could get samples of each child’s blood. After all, if they have something extraordinary in their genetics, perhaps one of them could help to cure his daughter.

Charli and I share a lot of the same abilities. Mine just aren’t always as strong as hers are though. But thankfully, we share the ability that allows us to tell this tale even when we weren’t present in the room for the goings on.

Ashford walked back to the Black King lab. He walked over to the glass and looked at the boy. He was a cute kid. It kind of made him sad to know that he was having to cage the boy. A new crack appeared in the glass.

“I’m going to get out of here you know.” The boy said. Unlike the girl, the boy spoke out loud.

“I’m sure you will. In good time. You can crack the glass all you want. You can’t get out. It won’t break.” Ashford smiled.

“I don’t like it here. I want to go home.”

“You can’t go home. You’re sick. I’m going to make you better. But you have to stay in there so I don’t get sick. It’s all right. I promise, I’ll make you better.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Ok.”

Ashford turned to leave. He was surprised when the boy didn’t ask him to leave the light on. “Do you want the light left on?”

“No, I’m not scared of the dark.”

“Good night little man.”

“Good night mister.”

Ashford left the lab. He peeked into Red Queen’s lab, saw she was sleeping and left her alone. He wondered what exactly it was that Montrose wanted him to do with these kids. He figured he’d find out soon enough.

I don’t remember what exactly was wrong with me. It wasn’t that I felt bad or anything, but my parents kept telling me I was really sick. Maybe it was the things I was doing that made them think I was sick. I really don’t know. All I know is that my parents kept telling me I was sick.

I can’t really speak about what me and Charli can do until Charli reveals things for herself. It isn’t fair for me to tell you what’s what when it’s her story too. It’s mostly her story, make no mistake. I play my parts in it, but it’s her story for the most part. She’s the important one. Believe me when I say, I am not that big of a deal in the scheme of things. I’m really not.

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Resident Evil: The Beginning - Chapter One

Mon, 11 May 2009 00:47:05 GMT

**Notes - this is a Resident Evil/NASCAR cross over fic.**
Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, then I don't own them. I wish I did. Drivers who may or may not make an appearance: Jeff Gordon, Jimmie Johnson, Brian Vickers, Dale Earnhardt Jr, Martin Truex Jr, Tony Stewart, Denny Hamlin, Elliott Sadler, JJ Yeley, Jamie McMurray, Carl Edwards, Ryan Newman, Kyle Busch. Others may or may not make appearances. I don't know yet. I also do not own any of the characters featured in the Resident Evil movie trilogy. I DO however, own Charli.

If you’re reading this, it means that the world hasn’t ended. Or maybe it has, and you’re one of the few survivors. Either way you’re alive to read this and I’m grateful for that at least. If the world has ended and you’re one of the few survivors, you need to know how it all started. You deserve that much. If the world hasn’t ended, you need to know how close you may have come to it actually happening. You need to know either way so that it never happens again.

I have to do this quietly. My husband is asleep behind me and I have no where I can go that he won’t hear me. He hates to even think about this story, which in a way, is his story as well. You’ll get to meet him later. He may even tell some of the story. But for now, a little about me.

My name is Charlatan Denise McLeod Busch. You can call me Charli. Everyone does. My mom thought Charlatan was a pretty name. She didn’t know what it meant. Oh well. Sometimes I feel the name is appropriate. After all, most of my life has been a charade. For years I thought I was just like everyone else. Then I found out I was…different. Not in a bad way, but not in a good way either.

I need to start from the beginning. My earliest memories are of holding my father’s hand as we walked into a big building with a pretty white and red umbrella on it. He told me that it was a hospital and that we were just going there so I could get my check up. I think I was five at the time. I remember him giving my hand to a pretty nurse who helped me get into one of those awful paper gowns. The next thing I remember, I’m in a tank of some sort of liquid. I’m naked and I’m scared. I have no idea where my father is. No one seems inclined to do anything more than stare at me.

“She’s awake doctor.” The lab assistant stated without looking up from the monitors. The subject was doing well, considering how frightened she had to be. The assistant wondered exactly why they had her there. She didn’t seem to be particularly imposing.

“Good, good. I wonder how long it will be before we see a display?” The doctor mused to himself. He’d been told that this little girl was something that he should be studying. That they should ALL be studying. Then again, when the head of the corporation says to study something, everyone studies it. Even if it is the boss’ daughter they’re studying.

“Display of what doctor?” The assistant looked up for a split second at the doctor, then back at the monitors. No change in any of her vital signs and her brain waves were all within normal parameters. He truly had no idea why they would be studying a five year old girl.

“That’s a very good question. All I know is that Mr. Montrose told us that we need to study her. That all of the scientists here need to study her.” The doctor sighed.

“So what do we call this project?” The assistant asked. He had to label the folders in the computer system something.

“The Red Queen Project.” The doctor walked towards the tank. He stared in at the little girl. The glass cracked but held. “Ahhh, she’s starting to get agitated I see. Any change in vitals?”

“None doctor. Are you going to tell me she did that?” The assistant pointed to the cracks in the glass.

“If what Mr. Montrose said is true…yes.” The doctor looked at the little girl. “According to him, what we just saw is only the tip of the iceberg.”

A couple of notes that I need to make here. I’m writing what I remember happening. Mr. Montrose was my father. He owned the place I was taken to. I later found out that it was called The Umbrella Corporation. The other note here is that those movies based on the shit that Umbrella did aren’t exactly factual. The Red Queen was not a computer system. The Red Queen was and still is a person. The Red Queen was and still is, me. I hate what was done , hate what was created by their studies of me. But there wasn’t much I could do about it at the time. I was only a kid.

Dr. Ashford stared at the readouts he was getting. It was hard to believe that Red Queen had cracked that glass without even a spike in brain activity. But there it was, in black and white. Perhaps he should have the instruments checked. They could have malfunctioned.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, he wasn’t at all happy about what he was doing. He intensely disliked the very thought of actually studying a little girl, especially when he had no idea what he was supposed to be watching her for. It also bothered him that her own father would just give her to them as if she didn’t even matter to him.

Tests showed that Red Queen was capable of both sight and hearing, but yet her eyes were made of glass – her real eyes had been carved out when she was two years old. Apparently Mr. Montrose had thought her eyes were the cause of the odd things that happened around her and had carved them out. At some point, they were replaced with glass eyes, but yet indications were that Red Queen could actually see.

X-rays and other tests had revealed extensive damage to her ears, irreparable damage which should have prohibited her from hearing anything at all. She seemed capable of actually hearing, although it seemed that she only heard voices.

Side note here - I am physically blind and deaf. My sight is by the grace of the gods and my hearing is well – you’ll find out in a bit how that works. It’s also how I’m able to give you parts of the story that I was not physically present for.

Dr. Ashford walked back into the lab and approached the glass. Another crack appeared, and he spoke softly. “Don’t worry sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to study you. I want to see what makes you tick. I want to know how you do things. Your daddy says that you can do some really neat things.”

At the mention of her father, the liquid in the tank began to boil softly. Her hair was flowing around her and she looked absolutely incensed. Dr. Ashford watched as she calmed herself and the liquid stopped boiling. Another crack appeared in the glass. “You don’t like being in there, do you sweetheart?” Another crack.

“Let me out and leave me alone.”

Dr. Ashford looked startled. He’d heard the girl, but her lips hadn’t moved. Not only that but it wasn’t like he’d heard her out loud. It was more like he’d heard her in his head. He shook his head. Telepathy was impossible. They’d proven that a couple of years ago. There was no way he’d heard her say anything. He was imagining it.

“I said, let me out and leave me alone!” Another crack formed in the glass and he realized that he most definitely was not imagining any of this.

“If I let you out, you’ll go back to your father. Do you want to go back to him?”

“No. He’s mean.”

“Then stay here for a while. I promise I’ll see about getting you out of there. I’ll see if we can be allowed to study you without you needing to be in there. Ok?”

“All right.”

Dr. Ashford turned to leave. “Leave the light on please. I hate the dark.”

“Good night sweetheart.” He left the light on.

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Welcome to my Umpteenth Blog

Mon, 11 May 2009 00:41:28 GMT

Yes, you read that right! This is quite possibly my umpteenth blog. I have so many blogs floating around out there, it's not even funny! But - this one is intended to be a jump off point for my fan-fiction stories. Mostly NASCAR fan fics. Right now I have one that's not posted anywhere else and that's the one that is going to be posted up here. If you like NASCAR fan fics, check me out! :)

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