Chapter One

A/N:  Resident Evil fanfiction.  I understand some people despise fanfiction with a undying passion.  So this work is not for said people.

Chapter One

As her eyes scoured the gray sky Jill Valentine took a deep breath. The spent pistol in her hands wavered. Giving it once last glance she tossed it aside, listened to it clatter against pavement as it disappeared into shadows and her legs buckled. They would always find her. It didn't matter where she went or who she followed. In the end it was never enough to escape the nightmare.

She tilted her head forward. Curling into a ball she pressed herself between the dumpster and brick wall. She rested her forehead on her knees. The chill of midnight raked over her. In the distance through hissing steam from a broken pipe and thunder consuming the heavens came the familiar sound of the undead. It rolled forth without end.

The bitterness of tomorrow will never cease, the voice called to her. It reached out beyond madness to a place she tucked inside herself long ago. It slithered from a dark abyss yawning as poison spewed from its unrelenting drawl.

"I awaken dreams and nightmares," it claimed.

Go away, she thought, holding herself tight. Her attention returned to the sky. Dark ominous clouds rolled in, swelling with malicious intent. Her stomach clenched. Tears were close now. They threatened to spill down her cheeks as she watched a wrinkled newspaper page tumble from one side of the alleyway to the other. There had been times when sleep would come and bring with it a sweet moment of hope and peace but then as her eyes opened it melted away.

She sniffed. Chris Redfield had been a dependable partner in the past. Thinking about his bright smile always put things in perspective even in dark situations. Where was he now? She remembered when the last time it was she saw him. It played like a broken movie reel. Pieces blurred while others flickered and went black.

Feeling the pain again she lifted her arm to meet her gaze. Rolling up her sleeve she was careful to avoid brushing her fingers against the thick bandaging. She didn't need to remove it to know the hideous wound beneath was not healing and as she closed her eyes she could almost see the succession of teeth imprints set deep within her flesh. They sent searing fragments of agony up and down the wasting length that now twitched.

"You will become one of them," the voice declared. It was a note just above a whisper yet ever so powerful in the growing silence around her. "You will be among the walking dead."

And she knew it was true. The reality of it grasped her by both shoulders and shook her until she felt dizzy, nauseated and ultimately empty. She felt like an empty trash can swimming with contaminants. Sure the trash was gone but traces of it were still found at its bottom in a thick foul smelling soup.

Her heart sank. It swirled in the acid pit promising to toss her lunch into her throat. The wailing started again. It never actually ceased. Perhaps for a second or so she managed to pretend it had, but now as she stood she knew better.

"This day is another page in your book," the voice whispered.

She steadied herself against the wall. Slowly she emerged from the enclosed space and squinted. Light flared in tiny orbs. Her hand closed to form a fist. A wave of nausea rolled in and washed her out to sea. Every step forward sent more crashing waves to swoop in and carry her further and further away. Pausing just before the corner, she took a deep breath. A part of her wanted to surrender to whatever it was roaming the streets although being some creature's next meal wasn't at all a favorable way to die.

"But you do not have much choice," it said.

"Yes I do," she said. The sound of her own voice was nothing more than a feeble whine and she gritted her teeth.