And as for Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield…they have no idea what horrific fate awaits them…

"No!"

"Let's finish this."

"JIIILL!"

With a shaky gasp of breath, Jill Valentine woke up from whatever dream she'd been having. Her heart pounded a solemn beat. There was a stinging feeling in her lungs, like an invisible gush of cold water had filled them to the brim. Jill grabbed her head, trying to shake the painful headache throbbing in her temple. She was dizzy, disoriented, and more confused right at that moment then she had been in months. The pain in Chris' voice sounded so true. He was screaming out for her like she had been sentenced to death, never to be seen again. She had never heard him say her name quite that way. Not before, and hopefully never again.

Dream or no dream, it felt as real as any of her other experiences. And Wesker, she could plainly hear the traitorous bastards accented voice along with her own and Chris'. He had dropped off the face of the earth, evading her and Chris, evading the UN, and evading the BSAA. That man was the reason she and Chris were so passionate in what they did. Eliminating true evil from the world was their mission, and she'd be damned before she let the wrong side triumph. She'd be damned before she let Albert Wesker win.

"Tch." Just the thought of his name made Jill quiver with rage. Of everything to dream about, of every living nightmare she'd faced in the past. Of all of the gore and death, even with every BOW—why Albert Wesker? She'd had many nightmares since 1998, hundreds upon hundreds. Jill would be lying if she said she'd had a good nights sleep any time since the mansion incident to then. After years of bad sleeping habits, waking up in a cold sweat, and hearing the sound of the BOWs, Jill had accepted the psychological pain. She embraced it. There was nothing left to do.

That noise was maddening, the throaty groan of agony as the blasphemous creatures gargled on blood. Their peeling and bloated skin staying intact as they stumbled after her, arms stretched out as wide as they could manage. They grabbed and reached for her. They were cannibalistic monsters, worse than any of the movies painted them to be. Jill could still close her eyes and see a reflection of her own terrified face—of those sunken-in lifeless eyes glazed over with white film. Their hunger had caused countless nightmares for Jill; they had been one of the most scarring things. They were once people, an individual who lived and breathed. People who went to their jobs throughout the week, who joked and laughed, and had a family and friends. All of the BOWs had been. That was what really caused her the most distress.

It was true, she had many dreams. But none of them had involved Albert Wesker as of lately. She had stopped dreaming of the STARS traitor years ago, along with those zombies. She stopped dreaming about him releasing Hunters, Tyrants, and any other type of viciously powerful BOW variants. She stopped fearing him, ending the nightmares. Her anger became too much. Her fear for him depleted, she found strength in her anger. Chris had as well. They both grew together, united against a common enemy: The Umbrella Corporation, bio-terrorism—Wesker.

It shook her to her very core. What had she done to deserve having such a horrible dream about her best friend, her partner? Why have yet another nightmare? Her mind could be an annoying fiend. Whatever it was, she couldn't dwell on it for any longer than she needed to. She was dazed and had no clue as to where she was. That was a quick way to get herself killed in this day and age.

She finally came to her senses; her head ceased spinning its pirouettes of throbbing pain, but she unfortunately came back to reality and realized she was freezing. Her jacket did her no good against the cold air. She was outside lying on the filthy streets of an unknown city wedged into an awkward ally corner. Had she passed out there? Been dumped off? Jill didn't have a clue. All she knew was that she felt shunned from the world, alone in an area she wasn't familiar with.

On the bright side, the ground isn't wet. Or littered, for that matter… Jill hazily thought. She looked up into the sky, the sun was dull and barely shining through. The colors were like fire, the flames licking the sky as the orange to pink horizon tinted black. "The suns setting, it'll get dark soon." While being in a silent and unfamiliar city, just waking up to the sun setting was never a good sign. For all she knew, Jill was thrown back into another Raccoon City disaster, it was this silent when she first exited her apartment then, too. She hoped that wasn't the case. She really, really hoped that wasn't it. She turned her head in an attempt to pick up noise, any kind of noise to indicate breathing, living people but couldn't hear a thing. No BOWs, no Wesker, no people, and no Chris. Was she really alone, wherever she was?

"Radio..." Jill whispered, the revelation giving her a spark of hope. remembered her radio which was attached onto the holster on her left shoulder. She had the earpiece in, all she had to do was reach someone. She tried calling into HQ, but with no luck. The only sound she could hear was static.

"This doesn't sound good. I've got a bad feeling…" Jill turned off her communicator, trying to keep her head level by analyzing the situation, talking quietly to herself. Talking to herself through tragedy and worry had been natural to Jill Valentine, and it had been even before the mansion incident. Talking to herself was by no means "strange" or, "weird." If anyone were to tell Jill otherwise, then she'd tell them how talking out loud helped her think through her actions, ultimately saving her own skin, and countless other lives. That'd shut them up quick.

"I'd better check to see if I have any weapons, never know when it could be useful. Still don't know if this place is safe." She stated dully as she patted herself down, finding a red box of ammo labeled, "Red Hawk" inside one of her ammo pouches. Inside was an extra clip filled with ten rounds. Useful, Jill thought.

This could definitely help out if I'm in a tight squeeze, if only I had a gun. She ditched the box, throwing it onto the previously litter-free ground. Taking just the clip, Jill hid it in a place on her belt where it was easily accessible, right next to her flashlight. Next, attached onto her belt, she found a small can of first aid spray. Her right leg held what appeared to be all of her weapons. Attached to her hip was a M92F BSAA issued handgun, the current standard gun of the BSAA. Ten rounds in the chamber, it looked like the gun only held ten bullets total. It obviously hadn't been modified in any way, shape, or form. On the lower part of her right leg was her knife, hidden away. It was sheathed and easy to pull out, but deadly if the force was needed.

"Better head out, checking out the city is a good plan. I can figure out where I am and find a radio to call in for backup. It seems like I can't get mine working, but I don't see how. Headquarters would've never let me proceed on a mission if I didn't have a working radio from the get-go, and Chris always checks our radios beforehand. These things don't break easily. This sure is getting weird…" She rubbed her arms while zipping up her blue coat as far as it could go, trying to get the warmth back into some part of her body. "Ugh, I feel like I've been dipped in water and left out in the breeze to dry." Jill finally decided that walking would be the best cure for her little aliment. Unlike Raccoon City, it wasn't fairly warm outside and she hadn't been wearing a tube top and a skirt. She had felt then that a skirt would better suit her for defensive and offensive purposes. Luckily she was wearing a pair of very faded blue gray pants now. It was better for the weather.

"Still no one, I walked two city blocks. I can tell people live here, there're cars parked on the street. Well, more like discarded hastily inthe middle of the street. And there are toys on the apartments steps. It may look like the bad side of town, but even with that, where are all the people in this city?" She gazed around, looking down alleyways, into cars and apartment windows. Everything looked hastily done. Cars were parked sloppily, some doors weren't even locked. In the apartments, all of the windows were tightly locked with curtains over them. Some seemed to have been covered with blankets as makeshift curtains. Something was really wrong. Jill could feel that much just by the air.

Crash! A garbage can toppled over in the alleyway to her right. Jill scanned the open area surrounding her twice before quickly pulling out her handgun, asking in a strong but hopefully kind sounding voice, "Who's over there? Show yourself right away!" No response. Jill lowered her voice. "I don't understand what's going on here, but I can promise that you will be held under the full protection of the BSAA should you comply! Please, show yourself!" Jill waited a few moments. When nothing came out, she grimaced.

"This is obviously trouble…but if I keep walking, I could've passed up a survivor of whatever's going on. I could save someone. I need to get as many people to safety as I can." Against her better judgment, Jill began walking down the alley. Something told her this was wrong, but she couldn't stop her legs from moving. She was drawn into that alleyway, something was pulling her.

"Ugh, what is that smell?" It smelled like rotting flesh, like a body had been left sitting out in the sun for a few days. She crinkled her nose in disgust, turning on her flashlight to see better in the dark. The alleyway went behind the apartment buildings she had been looking into. At least, that's what she gathered from what she could see. It was probably where the dumpsters were kept. She could smell that, too.

Luckily her stomach had grown stronger than these smells over the past however many years. She was beyond those days of throwing up when things got too gross. Disgusting was a feeble word because it didn't even touch ground on the things she'd faced in the past. There were no words to even describe it, so Jill had stopped trying.

Caw, caw! There was a crow sitting still on the fence in the back. Jill took a step back, aiming her handgun at the crow. Ever since the mansion incident and onward she'd been untrusting of crows. She had no idea what was going on there, and if this place had been infected, if a virus had contaminated the area, she wasn't going to let any goddamned monster get her first. The crow fluttered its wings somberly before turning its head sideways to look at Jill. It seemed distressed, but unwilling to fly away from whatever was freaking it out. It didn't show any particular kind of aggression or hunger, so Jill gained the ground she'd lost as she took one step forward. It cawed again, pointing it's beak towards the alley back and forth, as if were pointing her towards something dark. Whatever was there, she felt it. The hate and malice in the air was taking her breath away. She wasn't even sure how malice could be so tangible. Caw, caw! In a flash, something came out from around the corner, its red eyes glowing through the darkness of the alley. Her flashlight shined onto the creatures strange body. Its shoulders and chest seemed to bob up and down, almost as if it were laughing at Jill.

"A new kind of BOW?" Jill announced. It wasn't the most horrifying monster she'd ever seen, but it wasn't all that pleasant to look at. Its body was made up of withered white bones; it looked to be a walking skeleton. Could it have possibly been infected by a parasite bleeding its blood dry? Maybe that would explain the boney appearance. It almost looked as if it were carved out of a bleached tree. It had an old and tattered, dusty black cloak clinging on for life onto its own nonliving body. The clothes looked like they came from royalty thousands of years old. It moved its head at Jill, as if looking her over. Its hood swished around from the movement, brushing against its skull like head. Its skinless jaw was open wide; it had a constant horrific face of surprise. The creature wielded a large curved scythe in both of its hands. Whatever it had been doing back there, Jill wouldn't check. The blood was fresh on it's weapon and that was all she needed to know. It raised it's scythe high, a warning for Jill to run. And she did.

Coming out of the alley she was greeted by four more of those BOWs she'd decided to call, "Grim Reapers." All of which were covered in blood. Jill glanced down the alley one last time to see the first one gone without a trace, which was a bitterly sweet thing. Four against one were a lot better odds than five against one, but the possibility of it coming back anytime was a problem. The four creatures made a strange noise, a gargling scream that sounded like bloody murder. Alone, they would've sounded just plain disturbing. In unison, they almost sounded demonic.

The noise grew louder as their lust for death seemed to become more and more apparent. Whatever these things were, Jill Valentine was in their sights. What she didn't understand was why they were taking so long to attack. They just stood there and screamed, like they were buying time in some way, or deciding if they really wanted to attack. The one in the alleyway might've lifted up its scythe, but it never actually swung at her.

Jill looked around, weighing her options. If these things had speed then running wouldn't help in the least bit. But she had escaped from the Nemesis before, back in Raccoon City. Running from that Tyrant had seemed impossible then, too. There were four of them and twenty bullets, Jill liked those odds. Those things couldn't be left alive. They were monstrous abominations that needed to be stopped.

"If you want a fight, then bring it. I'm ready." Jill aimed her handgun at the Grim Reaper to the far left, firing out three bullets. All of which it deflected with its scythe. "Shit." She breathed out. The only way to get those scythes out of the picture was to make them vulnerable enough to kill. Or shoot them out of the creature's hands, kick them out, or get them stuck in something. A car, maybe. They were littered everywhere. She'd have to make it up as she went.

Caw, caw. That damned crow again, didn't it know when to leave? It flapped its wings, flying low and landing onto a car model she couldn't recognize across the street. It pointed it's beak down to the gas tank before cawing once more. Caw!

Of course! I could just blow them to bits! But if they attack it's going to be hard to get them all off me in time to open the gas container. Plus I need to get to a good place where I can angle the shot. Suddenly, that plan didn't seem appealing. What am I missing? Yes, that's it! If I can get one of the Grim Reapers to hit there, I can just get to a safe spot and shoot! She nodded at the crow, silently thanking it. It cawed once more before flying off to watch from the top of the apartment building. Whatever it was, it was helping her. And she'd take all the help she could get.

Without much thought, she began running over to the car the crow had been at. One of the Grim Reapers quickly swung its scythe down, nearly cutting Jill. When it was bringing its scythe back up, Jill gave a hearty kick to its hands, causing the scythe to leave the creatures hand. Using this chance, she quickly put five rounds into its head. The monster dissolved into sand.

"Sand?" Jill asked to no one in particular. "Why—never mind, I don't have time to think about this." She rolled to avoid another swing. She rolled behind a second creature, her back hitting a small red truck. She looked at the spikes coming out of the BOWs back with interest. They reminded her of something, but she couldn't place her fingers on it. It bothered her, and her head began to ache. She got up, feeling dizzy as she tried to focus on the Grim Reapers. She drunkenly wobbled, falling to her knees and getting flashbacks of memories she knew nothing of. She remembered holding a vial of something, the screams of a dying man fighting for his life, and a smirking Albert Wesker calling for her.

The next image was of a BOW she can't remember ever seeing. A bulked up man with a black sack covering his face, and wearing a leather apron with red gloves rolled up to it's elbows. Nails protruded from nearly every inch of its body, three very large hooks were impaled into its lower back, along two large crossed nails sunk into his upper back forming an "X". Blood coated his clothes and skin. But the worst part was the heavy axe he carried. Huge would be an insulting understatement. The weapon looked like an oversized hammer opposite to the axes blade, with chains connected all around the hammer like area.

Jill screamed out in agony, her chest feeling as though it were burning. She clawed at it, feeling an infuriating sense of deja-vu. She felt tears brimming in her eyes as she hurried to zip down her coat. She looked down, horrified at the scar that felt like it was bubbling onto her chest. She saw another flash, a red device sat attached to her chest, fitting into the scar perfectly. She gripped at the illusion of the device, wondering how she hadn't noticed it before. Once she touched the scar the mirage was gone. As was the pain.

Jill panted, wiping away stray beads of sweat and tears. She had never experienced a pain like that before. She never remembered having that device on her chest! Whatever it was had caused her more pain than she had ever previously known. Something happened, and Jill couldn't remember what. But the BSAA operative didn't know if she wanted to remember.

She remembered the Grim Reapers. She remembered looking at them, watching their confusion closely. They stopped attacking, almost as if they weren't sure that she was an enemy. They looked at her oddly. Somehow she felt as though she wasn't supposed to be there. Like she should've been dead by their hands—yet, she wasn't.

She made a promise to herself. She would make sure those monsters never saw the light of day again. Besides, those bastards triggered something inside of her. They made her feel things she knew she never wanted to feel again. And she would make them pay.

Standing up weakly, Jill gave a defiant frown. She could feel her chest pulse wrathfully, a primal urge to kill energizing her. It helped to give her a reason to fight. She shot the one closest to her once, knowing it would deflect her bullet. The same fate as the first three shots fired. It seemed as though they snapped back into their blood lust as soon as she became an apparent threat.

The next closest swung its weapon smoothly, hitting her in her left arm as she began moving away. Jill breathed out roughly, getting real tired of those things, whatever the hell kind of monsters they were. She gripped her arm, her mind telling her she needed to stop the bleeding. But this wasn't something to be dealt with yet, not now. She needed medical attention but this wound wasn't anything she'd die over anytime soon. Those scythes, on the other hand, were. She cringed an audible noise, the demons echoed it back. Blood smeared all over her M92F as she willed herself back into action.

She ignored her injury as best as she could, running and finally making it over to the car. Two of the Grim Reapers were on her tail, the last one lagging behind. Jill leaned against the car, breathing hard and checking her M92F to find one shot left. She narrowly dodged a swing from a Reaper, holding back a smile as the car took the blow for her. As it struggled to release its weapon, the Reaper's two companions caught up with her. She glanced at the creature attempting to pull its scythe out, deciding to time its death appropriately. Running to the other side of the street, Jill looked at her handicapped target with hate filled eyes. Soon it would pull it's scythe out and turn around, that would be when she struck. She let out a breath and ran full speed, calculating correctly. The monster twisted around just in time, allowing Jill to successfully jump on the creatures shoulder. With its head between her thighs and no time to waste, Jill twisted her body with extra strength to accommodate for the weird angle of the jump. Hearing a loud crack, she quickly jumped off and rolled away.

When she landed she put a hand on the ground to steady herself. The monsters head had rolled off, the body turned to dust shortly after. The scythe left behind on the ground was just what she needed. She balled her fists up, wiping her eyes. She felt so dizzy, it was unbelievable. It was as though this fight was draining her energy more and more by the minute. She wouldn't be able to to fight much longer if she passed out. I have to fight, I have to win! She turned around to see the two remaining Reapers closing in on her. She rolled in between them, running over to the scythe lying on the ground with shaking hands. She had already put her handgun into its holster before she jumped on the creature's shoulders to kill it.

"Agh!" The scythe was light, feeling like it weighed as much as a feather in Jill's hands. The dark instrument seemed to crackle under her touch, like the feeling of pop rocks inside of the mouth. She was able to ignore this enough to hold it. What she couldn't ignore was the agonized screaming coming from inside her own mind. These screams were real. There was no way she was imagining that, screams of the dead, or dying. It was pitiful, hearing the wails of the dying all over again, just like Raccoon City. The wails made the scythe painful to hold, it hurt more than just her hands. She could feel the screeches of decay. They etched themselves into her mind. The longer she held the scythe, the more she felt her mind degenerate into nothing.

I cant do this, I cant deal with this. It felt as though there was an evil embodied inside of the scythe. Like she was touching something hellish, and cursed.

No, I have to. Jill popped open the gas tanks door, unscrewing the cap to the tank itself. She threw the cap at the ground, taking a step back and swinging as hard as she could, the scythes blade hitting hard, causing some gasoline to spew out from a full tank. She smiled bitterly as the scythe turned to sand. She had endured the maddening screams long enough. She waited for the unsuspecting demons to inch closer. When they were close enough, Jill hightailed it out of there. She ran as far as she could while still being able target the gas tank. She was amazed she was still able to run. She was amazed she didn't trip too. She was just so tired.

"Take this!" And Jill aimed and shot, the bullet hitting its target perfectly, sparking an explosion. The car blew up the last remaining Grim Reapers, taking them back to hell where they came from. Jill scoped the area, stumbling as she took out her spare clip, reloading her gun and nearly dropping it in the process. Her body felt heavy, her injured arm felt limp and clumsy. Jill felt like all of her energy had been drained. She couldn't feel the pain in her arm, but she felt some pain when she hit the ground. She opened her eyes one last time to see at least five more of those creatures appearing, along with a mans voice saying,

"Come on! Is that any way to treat a lady?"

She wasn't sure who he was, but she hoped and prayed he was backup. If he couldn't kill those things, they'd both be dead.

Please...And with that, Jill blacked out.

End of Jill: Part One, to be continued in Nero: Part Two.