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Women in Red 2	By : Clocktower Category: +M through R > Resident Evil Views: 4708 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 6
- 7
- 8
"Wake up, we're going down," Ada said, shaking Claire out of her slumber.
Sitting up, groggy, Claire looked out the cargo plane's windows, saw nothing but white. Steve was at the controls desperately trying to find some way to override the autopilot, a job Ada appeared to have already given up on.
"Where are we?" said Claire.
"Somewhere over Antarctica," said Ada. "I'm not going to lie, I don't like our odds."
While Claire appreciated Ada's ever-calm demeanor, she felt Steve had the right attitude here and went to the controls to see if she might help him, even if accidentally. The plane was low enough now where they could see the ground. They were still over the water, but half a mile or so away was a shelf of ice and snow. Her mind raced. Was the plane going to land on the water or the snow? Was there some beacon they could activate so they might be rescued? She doubted the plane could serve long as a shelter. Maybe crashing was best, the thought, until she noticed the gray, concrete structures sticking out of the snow, not far from a snowy runway.
With nothing to do but pray, they took their seats and buckled themselves in as the plane came in for a landing. As they drew closer to the runway, the scene on the ground became clearer. Black smoke rose lazily from some of the buildings while the wrecks of two helicopters just off the runway lay there like dead flies. Claire had no reason think the plane wasn't going to land itself properly until it touched the snow and started sliding sideways towards a massive concrete silo.
"We're gonna crash!" Steve cried as the plane slid off the runway, its elongated nose punching right through the big silo, leaving the windows to be showered in crumbling concrete and dust.
Claire had covered her head with her arms in case the windows shattered or the cockpit crumpled, but the aircraft proved to be more robust than the silo, leaving them all to sit in silence as the engine cut out.
"Is everyone okay?" said Claire when it was clear she hadn't died.
"I'm fine," said Steve.
Ada unbuckled her seat belt and got up to peer through the plane's cracked windows into the darkness of the silo. A few red emergency lights illuminated a walkway just below them.
"Well, we're not dead," said Ada, cheerfully. "Let's go see how bad it is."
Though they were essentially out of bullets and shells, they took their firearms with them when they climbed out of the seaplane's cockpit, jumping ten or so feet to the walkway below.
"So, is this like a missile silo or something?" said Claire, looking over the walkway into the inky darkness under her feet.
"More like a cradle."
"A cradle? Like for a baby?" said Steve.
Claire felt Ada's silent exasperation. The cockpit had smelled strongly of semen after they'd gotten dressed and rejoined Steve inside of it. They'd have been happy to remain in the cargo hold together, but the further south they'd gone, the colder it had become.
"Something like that," Ada said. "I suspect Alexia Ashford plans to do some growing once she wakes up. That's assuming she wasn't captured or killed by whoever attacked this place."
"So, are there, like, zombies and mutants crawling around here, too?" said Steve.
"Very possible," said Ada. "How many shells do you have left?"
"Uh, three. They were, uh, in my pocket when we were fighting that thing on the plane."
"Oh? We thought you were just happy to see us," said Ada. "In that case, go have a look around and see what we're up against. Claire and I will look for a safe, er, warm place we can all hide out in until we find a way out of here."
Steve looked down at his boots. "Is this because I..."
"Got cum on the armrest? Yes. Go find us a nice, warm nest and we'll forgive you. Maybe I'll even play with you a bit. Sound nice?"
Steve nodded and went running ahead, leaving Claire once again feeling morally compromised. "What if he does get himself killed?" she said.
"He'll survive so long as he thinks there's a good time in store for him," said Ada. "We'll have to decide which one of us is going to show it to him."
Claire had a feeling she knew how that would go, and hoped Steve found a nice bathroom somewhere to spend himself in.
XXX
Steve couldn't believe that he'd fallen for it all again. Here he was, sneaking through some deathtrap filled with zombies and monsters all for the vague promise of two hot girls letting him watch them make-out. He knew full well the Asian chick was getting off on doing this, sending him off to risk his life for the sake of his dick. He'd been holding out hope that the other girl would see the injustice here and at least jerk him off or something, but no. If anything, Claire seemed to have her own issues with Ada, and no interest in him.
"Focus, Steve," he muttered as he went down a long, dark passageway, mindful of what might lurk behind closed doors. He heard nothing his shotgun wouldn't kill, but being so low on shells he couldn't afford to mess around.
Knowing his quest for a warm hiding-hole was a ruse, he instead looked for any sign of a radio or room or signs pointing towards an airplane hanger. Maybe there was an international outpost or something nearby they could fly to, or drive to on snowmobiles. He'd take anything at this point, especially since his path was leading him downwards, deeper into what looked to him like a laboratory of some kind. Not a great place to explore in a place like this, but he wasn't seeing many other options.
Finally he came to a lab much bigger than the others, lit by dim lamps and full of weird medical equipment that, despite being on and running, was all covered a fine coating of dust. It was all plugged into a big, cylindrical fish tank standing on the far end of the room. Something floated inside. Up close he saw it was a woman, maybe the most beautiful one he'd ever seen, even.
She was naked, too.
"Hubba hubba," he said, scoping out the chick's physique. She was built like a Swedish model, her skin absolutely perfect, her silken blond hair flowing all the way down her back. She was asleep... or dead. He couldn't tell if she was breathing or not, there wasn't anything hooked up to her face... that face. Steve tried to imagine what her eyes must be like when open. Was it hot in here?
This must be that Alexia chick Ada and Claire had talked about, Alfred's sister. Her almost felt sour towards her, but he couldn't be mad at such a beauty. He looked around the room, didn't see anything that looked like a security camera. No sooner was his hand down his pants then an alarm went off. He jumped back, face reddening. Only when Alexia's tank started to drain did he realize this had nothing to do with him.
Alexia's time had come.
He looked around for a towel, thinking to help dry her off when she... what, stepped out? Broke out? She'd been in a coma for fifteen years in a place that made zombies and monsters, why wasn't he running away as fast as his legs could carry him?
As the tank fully drained, the glass slid sideways. Alexia's body moved with a will of its own, keeping her upright. God, she was perfect, Steve thought, his attention fully on the beads of blue-green tank fluid running over her breasts.
He was about to say something when her eyes popped open, burning away any remaining thoughts he had about her being friendly.
There was nothing in the color or shape of her eyes that Steve could say betrayed her inhumanity, rather it was the deep sense they gave that behind them lurked an immense intelligence, more bug-like than human, that saw him as something to either be destroyed, eaten, or tormented.
"H-hold it right there," he said, maddeningly conflicted about pointing a loaded shotgun at what mostly appeared to be an unarmed naked woman. She stepped out of her tank like a queen descending her throne, her evil eyes fixed on him as he fought to untwist himself. "D-don't come any closer!"
Had it not been for her eyes, he might not have raised the shotgun to her face. Had it not been for her unspeakably hot body, he might have squeezed the trigger. As it was, he didn't move when she used one of her fingernails to slid the pad of her finger and flick the blood at him. It spattered onto the shotgun before bursting into bright, chemical flames, leading him to scream a and drop it.
"Forget this," he said, spinning around and bolting for the door, only to trip over a pink hose he hadn't noticed on his way in. Not a hose at all, as it turned out. Steve tried to crawl away as long, meaty tentacles wrapped around his legs and hoisted him into the air. "Hey! Put me down!" He was hung upside down like the catch of the day as Alexia approached.
As she undid his pants, he felt how strong she was. Inhuman! Like a robot or something hydraulic. She gave his hardness a few gentle strokes, leaving him to wonder what was about come true, his dreams or his nightmares.
"This won't do at all," she said to herself. "I'll have to make modifications."
"Modifications!? What are you talkin' about, lady?"
She glared down at him, her frown making him think she meant to modify his mouth as well; all the more reason to keep it shut.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Women in Red 2