Chapter 1: Refusing To Remember

Authors Note: Hi there! So, this is my first story that I'm sharing here on FanFiction. And to be quite honest, I'm slightly nervous. I only share my work with people I'm close too and I usually only write poetry. However, once in awhile, I will write a short story; just like this one. I have a terrible habit with not finishing things, but I am going to push myself to finish this. Because I am so in love with this story and idea.

So, here it is.

I've been a big fan of Resident Evil ever since I was a wee little child. I remember vividly watching my father play the games late at night, in the dark, on the PlayStation 1. Do you remember that old console?! I used to be so scared of it. Now I am brave enough to play on my own. Haha. Anyway, as time went on new games were added to the franchise and I would play them. At first when RE5 came out, I didn't think much about the characters. But the idea kept recurring in my head about how cute Sheva and Chris would be together, as a couple. But I never really thought about writing about them. Then RE6 hit the shelves. I played the game and I was so disappointed that Sheva wasn't even mentioned! I mean really! I kept thinking that there were a lot of places they could have included her, but alas, she was not.

So, here I am, writing a Creva story for you all to read. It takes place about a month before Chris's campaign starts in RE6. Please favorite or follow this story—even better, please leave a review for me. I am most eager to hear what you have to say!

Much love and thanks to you guys, Sarai.

I do not own any of the characters in RE, Capcom does.

"Chris!"

Chris could feel the unbearable heat surrounding him as he ran along the river of lava. He was cursing at himself for his legs to go faster, to pick up the pace to the save the girl. But the faster he ran, the further the girl got.

A man in a tight leather suit gripped the caramel skinned girl by her throat, holding her in the air. She was clawing at his hands, hoping that he'd release her. She'd try to kick him, but somehow he'd dodge them easily.

"Chris!" the girl called again. But instead of it being a shout, it came out weak and strained. The grip on her throat was becoming tighter and tighter.

"Put her down, Wesker!" Chris yelled at the man. "She's not the one you want to hurt, remember? Put her down and fight me."

Wesker turned his hard face to him and grinned, "My pleasure."

In less than a second, the hand Wesker was using to choke the girl tightened. A pathetic yelp escaped the girl's lips. Then silence. Her body fell limp in Wesker's hand. He let her go and watched as the lifeless body hit the ground. Chris stopped running and looked in disbelief at the girl's dead body.

Wesker turned to face Chris. "You're next."

Chris's eyes shot open. He was panting and could feel the sweat on his body. Then he felt sick. He quickly got up, rushing toward the small bathroom and leaned over the toilet, heaving up what little content he had in his stomach. Once he was done, he slowly stood and splashed water on his face and cleansed his mouth out with more water.

About 4 months ago, once he had checked out of the hospital —well, more snuck out—he began drinking heavily. Any type of liquor he got his hands on, he'd devour it. He couldn't remember anything. Not a damn thing. Every day he felt something was missing; his memory obviously, but like he needed to remember something or maybe someone.

That's when the nightmares started, particularly one nightmare almost every night. He'd dream about other things, but nothing haunted him like this one. He'd go to bed fearing of what images would creep into his mind while he slept. He even went to the extent of not sleeping at all some nights to avoid the nightmare. But no matter how much he'd try to block the dream, or the girl, out of his head when he was asleep or awake, it'd stay lingering on his mind.

He figured out that his name was Chris Redfield and that he was now 38. He learned that from medical files from when he was staying at the hospital. But the other things he would learn or remember would come in his dreams. He remembered faces and soon after, names. He never remembered what relation he had to these people and to be honest he didn't care.

However, there was one girl, one face… He'd dream about her nearly every night. But he never could remember her name. She had darker skin than his own and dark hair. Her eyes were a beautiful hazel shade. So beautiful it scared him. She was small yet strong.

'She's dead'. Chris thought to himself, still thinking about the girl in his dream. 'At least according to the dream she is.'

Chris's heading was pounding, he still felt sick. He knew he had a hangover. He walked out of the bathroom and looked at the clock. '7:47pm', the clock showed. He put on some dark jeans, a t-shirt and a black leather jacket. He left his motel room and headed for the local bar.

He hadn't been in this town long. Somewhere in Edonia, he knew. He didn't know what town it was and again, he didn't care. Just as long as no one bothered him, then he was fine with wherever he was.

Chris opened the door to bar and found it to be full with locals. There were groups of people laughing and shouting and then there were a few on their own. Drinking away their sorrows, Chris guessed. Chris would tell himself that he wasn't like them. That he was only drinking because memories that he felt weren't his own, were haunting him. But really, he was like them. He was drinking away thoughts or memories, and in some cases, sorrow. He was never going to admit that though.

Chris took a seat on the stool by the bar. He waved his hand up to get the bartender's attention. The bartender recognized him immediately. Once he was done tending to the customer in front of him, he grabbed a shot glass and some whiskey. He placed the shot glass in front of Chris and poured a small amount of the alcohol into the glass.

"You gonna tell me your story this time?" The bartender asked with a thick accent.

"I'll tell you once I remember," Chris replied. He had come into the bar every night for the past month. Every night the bartender would ask things about his life. Chris never said anything. What could he say? He didn't really know himself.

"You don't remember or you don't want to say?" Chris just glared at the bartender.

Chris lifted the small glass to his lips and quickly drank the liquid. "Just keep up with the whiskey."

Chris drank for what seemed like a short time to him, but a long time to the bartender.

"I think you've had enough. You should go home and get some rest," The bartender suggested.

"What home? Just keep filling the glass. I'll leave when I want." The anger was prominent in Chris's voice as his eyes narrowed at the bartender.

"Hey. I'm just saying. The bar will be here tomorrow. No need to get upset."

Chris was angry, but he didn't want to start a fight. He took one last shot and stood. He didn't want to go back to his room not because he wanted to drink more, but because he didn't want to have that dream. He slowly walked towards the doors, the alcohol fogging up his mind.

He noticed a woman leaning against a wooden post holding a cell phone to her ear. Her back was to him and all he could notice about her was that she wore a dark brown jacket and jeans that were tucked into brown boots. He didn't think much about her, until he heard her voice.

She was talking to someone on the phone, but Chris could hear she had an accent. Not Edonian or American, but a British accent. His mind started racing and he felt dizzy. The woman's voice was the same voice from his dream, the same voice that was calling out to him for his help.

She must have realized someone was behind her. She said a few hushed words into her phone, hung up on her call and turned around, her eyes went wide. "Chris?" The woman asked in disbelief. "Chris!"

She took a step towards him. Chris put his hands up, signaling for her to stop. He felt like he was gonna pass out. She stopped where she was and just looked at him confused. "Chris, it's me…"

Chris's head was throbbing, it felt like it was gonna split in two. He looked down to the ground, trying to get his thoughts together. He looked up at her and said what was eating at him for 5 months now. "Who are you?"

Authors Note: Oooh! Cliff hanger!

I really do hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is the kick off to hopefully many more. I have written a few chapters to this but I will upload at a steady pace. I don't want to use up all my ready chapters until I have more of it written. I don't really know how this story will develop completely but at least I know what direction I want it to go in. I'm having a lot of fun with it, though! Can't wait for you guys to read the next chapter :).

Also, I apologize for the rambling in the beginning. Since this was the first chapter, I wanted to talk to you guys for a moment. But I assure you, I won't write such lengthy introductions in the future chapters. Oh, and I'm sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or spelling errors. I think I edited it well, but you never know!

Again, please leave a favorite and/or review and please follow! See next time in Chapter 2, Sarai.