Resident Evil EX

BY : OmegaXIII
Category: +M through R > Resident Evil
Dragon prints: 11534
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, nor any of the characters from said franchise. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

                Doctor Marcus dubbed his creation the avatar.

                This was quite an auspicious title for what amounted to a run-of-the-mill water parasite, but it was through this specimen, one in over ten thousand, that the ambitious doctor planned to see mankind remade into something glorious. The wizened researcher had spent roughly twenty years pouring over the progenitor virus, working to restore the ancient source while partners and apprentices alike were content to take the easier route with the numerous radical strains that had been produced. The impure variants were not worth his time, neither was making monsters, not while his work with the progenitor made mere weapons development look uninspired. The doctor planned to restore the progenitor to how it was millennia prior, to revive that immeasurable potential without the various problems present in the unstable strains. He accomplished this by spiking various invertebrates with the progenitor and poked and prodded them through constant experiments, determined to provoke a resurgence of the dormant virus. The avatar was the pinnacle of his obsessive work.

                Marcus saw his ambitions vindicated when the avatar was born. The dormant strain morphed within one of the leech pods he had bred for his experiments and awakened once more, the avatar taking on a blood-red tint while coming into possession of its own mutant sapience. The doctor discovered within the ascended water parasite an awesome new variant of the progenitor, one that had the potential he sought without being unstable, one that proved his theories were on point. This superior strain became known as the mother virus and with it the old man touted that humankind would have the power to realize their true potential. This made the avatar proud.

                The humanist doctor put the mother virus to work on various specimens behind closed doors and noticed early that more trauma provoked more prominent adaptations. The mutations were near impossible to predict at most times, but were neither random nor destructive and only ever seemed to make the specimen better somehow. The vindictive man was anxious to experiment on other humans and in time was obsessed to the point theories and applications took over the whiteboards in his laboratories.

                Marcus once said that what the avatar meant was evolution in a bottle. The mother virus was supposed to improve mankind, elevate them overnight to some higher plateau, but the ignorance and incompetence that so often held back human potential spoiled that. An assassination squad and two treacherous pupils stormed into his private laboratory late one night and gunned him down to appease some inconsequential bottom line. How odd that two the turncoat researchers did not think to vaporize the corpse and the various mutant specimens, especially when incineration had been standardized decades prior.  For one reason or another, the poor doctor and his prized creation were taken out and dumped in the nearest lake and promptly put out of mind. The circumstances could not have been more ideal.

                The avatar needed time to rebuild what remained of the doctor, around ten years to be more precise, but the ambitious doctor came back so much more than human. The avatar's work was done on instinct and its mutant sapience never once bothered with expectations that would have been met with disappointment when the old man rose once more. The once wise researcher that wanted to improve mankind awoke insane with vengeance and was soon releasing the newest variant of the tyrant strain on the same two mansions he had managed one decade prior. The crazed revenant plotted to kill his one-time partners and then move on to world domination like total conquest would be that simple. His hatred proved moot once word got back to Umbrella. Ozwell Spencer had never been passive with his enemies and the mission to contain the outbreak was promptly handed down to his most precise weapons. The mutant madman had taken the avatar ten years of constant work to rebuild and revive, but the chairman put him down with one curt phone call.

                A six man strike team had descended on the conquered training compound the night prior, clad in next generation body armor and totting prototype weapons tailored to contend with even the most vicious test tube monster. The attack came mere minutes after the team rescued a private train used to transport company executives to illegal test sites hidden throughout the wilderness. The team poured into the captured training complex on the other side of the mountains and made quick work of the assorted mutations that roamed within. The eerie blue neon built into their armor came to mean death to the zombies and monsters. The six teammates were warriors without peer; either too amused or too excited to process the terror most people would have been struck with. The mutant madman went in vain to terminate them personally and met his end in a storm of copper that tore him to pieces before one trooper doused him with explosive napalm. The six assassins took time to collect some of the more intact specimens and evacuated before an untraceable precision airstrike buried the compound.

                Doctor Marcus could not have been more dead.

                The avatar abandoned its crazed creator once his destruction became inevitable and was able to escape the massive explosion that leveled his lair. The remnants of the mutant horde now ran wild in the wood without the mastermind to command them and would soon turn on one another. The parasitic swarm the mutant madman kept around him had disappeared into the wood and the avatar's consciousness had somehow become disconnected from the hive mind. The avatar pondered the chances of its own survival and knew it had to make its own arrangements.

                The avatar maneuvered from cover to cover as covert troopers swept over the mountains, capturing or terminating the mutants that stood out the most. The avatar initially took cover beneath an old wrecked truck and remained there until sundown when its mounting hunger became overwhelming. The avatar heard another helicopter touchdown and waited until one of the passengers, a petite women clad in olive garb, approached the truck. Famished, the avatar leapt out and skewered her ankle, drinking deeply while the poor girl dropped to the ground screaming over the sudden pain. The avatar moved as the other passengers approached, slipping around them and disappearing into the cumbersome metal bird that brought them so deep into the mountains. The newcomers soon moved on into the wood and the weary parasite settled down to rest.

                The avatar would have hibernated for what remained of the summer months, but awoke when someone new stepped up into the otherwise abandoned helicopter. The interloper was another woman; an ample-breasted brunette that wore dark blue attire and scanned the unoccupied cabin with her sidearm. The hushed voices of the people outside were incomprehensible to the avatar but one man's scent reminded the avatar of that one treacherous pupil. The avatar did not move and hoped it would remain unseen to those that would want to capture it. The avatar panicked when the buxom woman spotted it and reached out to give the water parasite a curious prod with the barrel of her pistol.

                On the second prod, the avatar reared up to bear its teeth at the woman and cried out with the most incensed screech. The armed woman was stunned and tried to jump back from the needle-like teeth, but there was no room to evade. The wailing avatar leapt at the woman with springiness its kind was never meant to possess and shot toward her like one of those mutant toads. The woman thrashed about as the parasite struck her dark blue flak vest and wormed down the fabric to avoid the hand grabbing at it. The avatar moved down her arm until it struck bare skin and bit in with its vicious little teeth to taste the warm blood beneath. The avatar was satiated while the woman screamed out in pain.

                "Fuck me!" the woman jumped out of the wreck to tumble in the dirt with her right hand clamped down over the ripping pain in her left forearm. The men on the team ran in at once and swept the copter to discover it had been torn apart and was indeed abandoned. The avatar moved to vacate the chopper and vanished into the pine thickets once more. The brazen brunette was quick to recover and applied some basic first aid to the bite mark while the others worked to secure the immediate area. The woman was wise to pile on ointment and peroxide prior to wrapping the wound with gauze, but the damage had been done. No amount of the quaint medicine contained in her hip pack would root out the mother virus that even in that moment was taking root in her bloodstream. The woman rose up and moved on without a clue that she now stood out like a beacon to the mutants and monsters that roamed the woods.

                The new arrivals gathered supplies at the downed helicopter and moved on to sweep the wilderness in search of their missing teammates. The worst rainstorm of the summer soon moved in to make conditions worse, but the newcomers were committed to the mission and pressed deeper into the wood. That mission went south not ten minutes into the search when a pack of monstrous mutant hellhounds rushed the team with vicious intent. One of them was taken down and torn apart before the others had a chance to react. The elite team was quick to shoot them down and retreat back toward their own chopper when a pincer maneuver from the pack turned them toward the mansion. The house looked like their one chance to escape the pack, but would expose them to other nightmares that were so much more dangerous.

                The avatar watched the entire escapade play out from the canopy above and its subdued consciousness knew the buxom woman would prove quite the amusement. The avatar knew concepts like amusement and disappointment via its primitive sapience, but remained subservient to the programmed instincts that drove the parasite toward the mansion. The madman knew how to plot vengeance and his hatred transcended death. The avatar's one and only purpose now was to propagate the mother virus and provoke acute evolution that his treacherous students could never achieve on their own, changes that would stand out far too much to cover up. The avatar knew not what the resurrected madman planned or envisioned, knew not how spreading the virus to living humans would change them or how it would satisfy his vengeance postmortem. The avatar did not dwell on it, instead pondering on some level what mutant or monster either women would encounter first.



Author’s Notes: This planned and wrote this prologue because trying to shove all this exposition into the earliest chapters would be cumbersome as all hell.

                Q: Resident Evil Zero?
                A: I know some purists won't like it, but sometimes canon must make room for monster sex erotica. Please understand that while the pivotal events of Resident Evil Zero occurred to some extent, the canon survivors were not involved. The outbreak at the mansion in this story is a separate incident that the company has been monitoring for data collection. Ozwell Spencer learned what happened and sent the Umbrella Delta Team from Operation Raccoon City to suppress the viral outbreak on the train and eliminate the much more serious threat. The commandos mopped up on the train, detonated the captured training center and had been pulled out hours before Bravo Team arrived on the scene. Alpha Team also went to rescue Bravo Team as soon as communications were lost as opposed to waiting until the next day for some dumbass reason that has never been explained. I could hammer out another page on it, but the prequel created some pretty terrible plot holes that needed to be addressed. That said, the monsters that were exclusive to Resident Evil Zero like the eliminators and leech zombies will likely receive their own content too.

                Q: The progenitor virus?
                A: The progenitor virus is an important plot device in canon to understand how the zombies are possible and how other mutants work. The progenitor is a highly potent non-carcinogenic mutagen that was discovered dormant in a bloom known as the Stairway of the Sun. Umbrella spliced the progenitor with other potent viruses to produce the numerous radical variants, including the highly potent, but nigh-unpredictable tyrant strain. Doctor Marcus was not content with that in this scenario and continued working to restore the progenitor instead of perverting it. Doctor Marcus was purist like that.
 
                Q: The avatar? The mother virus?
                A: The avatar is a blood-tinted mutant leech that alone carries and produces the pivotal mother virus. The mother virus is the purist thoroughbred state of the progenitor virus, restored to how it was in primeval times without the radical or violent aberrations common in the impure strains. The mother virus never got to human trails, but would have had more medical and humanitarian applications than the other viruses. That said, the avatar and mother virus are a minor plot devices to make monster sex scenes easier to set up and explain how the women survive the most extreme encounters. This took some imagination, but I love me some coherent plot even when it comes to smut.

                Got it? Okay. Proceed to the next chapter for some of that gratuitous monster sex promised in the description.

                I appreciate any and all comments, critiques and reviews. I am open to any suggestions that would help me improve as a writer and welcome any recommendations on how to handle the various girl-on-monster encounters as they come up.



You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story