Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any characters from the games, movies, or novels.

Chapter 1

Claire shot upright in her bed, her eyes wide and staring, and barely resisted the urge to scream. The only reason she managed to do that was the knowledge that if she did cry out it would bring Chris running from the next room. In this small apartment with its thin walls there was no way he wouldn’t hear her and he was already a very light sleeper considering all he’d gone through with the Umbrella Corporation. She didn’t want to cause him any trouble. Things had only just started to go back to normal. She didn’t want him to know about her nightmares; about the dreams she’d been having since the events in the Antarctic and Rockfort Island.

The horrible things that had happened there... all of those people, even if they were Umbrella employees, dying and Steve’s confession and death. Then there were the horrible twins; the cross-dressing, girly, psychotic blond Alfred Ashford and his sister Alexia, who if anything was 10 times worse. Claire had never seen a pair like them and never wanted to again. Alfred had freaked her out and angered her. Alexia had terrified her and infuriated her. Her ambition, callousness, malign intellect, sadism, morbid curiously, and her mutation all made her the epitome of what still haunted Claire’s dreams. She’d hurt so many people and had intended to hurt so many more. She’d experimented on her own family and even on Steve. She was the reason the boy was dead.

‘She’s dead Claire. She and her brother are both gone. They both died in the Antarctic. Nothing will happen like that again.’ With the knowledge of what Umbrella did however she wouldn’t have been able to say that to herself right after the incident; not until just recently.

The news article they had framed and sitting in the living room of the apartment told the whole story. Its headline was “Umbrella Shut Down” and detailed a government investigation into the affairs and dealings of the Umbrella Corporation. At first it had seemed they’d done such a good job of covering their tracks in Raccoon, but the U.S had launched and official investigation of the company an suspended its business practices; a suspension that had now become permanent after several Raccoon survivors testified against Umbrella, revealing the horrific events that occurred at the city. Even an Umbrella scientist by the name of Yoko ended up testifying against them, nailing together the coffin that the company would soon lie in. Unfortunately though the company was dismantled many of its executives were getting off clean. Considerably less wealthy sure, but a hit to their pocket books was nothing compared the pain Claire had witnessed and experienced because of the Corporation.

Leon had even been a part of the official investigation and was still working for the US government even now digging deeper into the Umbrella conspiracy. Chris still kept in touch with his fellow S.T.A.R.S even though he and Claire were now living comfortably here in New York. He was working as a SWAT cop, although he often got called in by the FBI for help with the Umbrella case. Because of his experience and Leon’s references he was often an ideal man to call upon.

‘We’d promised we’d do whatever it took to bring them down.’ Well Chris had promised that and she’d promised to always stay with him. ‘And we did it. After all that hell Umbrella is finally coming apart at the seams.’ True there was no news on the blond man, Albert Wesker or any new leads on who his employers might have been. Still things could be worse. The luminous shadow of Umbrella could still cover the world like it once did.

‘Umbrella’s gone. The pain’s over.’ She had to remind herself yet again. ‘I should just let everything go. I should be able to put it out of my mind or at least my dreams.’ She knew she could never forget even a bit of what she’d seen. It would haunt her forever. ‘I should be able to get rid of these nightmares. I should just be happy living with my brother.’

Of course life with her brother wasn’t the heaven she’d thought it would be. Sure they were reunited after the Antarctic, but her brother’s obsession with stopping Umbrella had only strengthened since then. She understood of course. She’d seen the horrors Umbrella brought to everyone, the lives they’d ended or ruined. But she’d never forgotten how to live for herself. She’d never forgotten about her family. That had remained the most important thing, finding and being with her brother. Chris however seemed focused almost solely on stopping Umbrella. True he’d come to Rockfort and then to the Antarctic simply to save her. True she knew he did love her and had risked his life to protect her. But beyond insuring her physical wellbeing Umbrella was his prime concerned. It was Claire who’d worked so hard since then to stay with him, not the other way around. If he’d had his way she’d be somewhere in hiding even now that Umbrella was being torn down.

‘Being safe and being with your family and people you love are two very different things. Sometimes I feel like he just wants me to have the first and not the second. I don’t know what I can do to get him to come out of his obsession. I don’t have anyone else. Leon’s become much the same. Steve is dead and I hardly see anyone else. I have no one anymore it seems. At least that’s what it feels like.’

That’s part of why she didn’t want him to know what she was going through. She didn’t want to give him any more reason to worry or, worse, give a reason to send her away. He’d nearly had her go through therapy after getting back from the Antarctic considering her reaction to Steve’s death, but with Umbrella still on the loose and pulling strings at the time it had proven too dangerous and since none of the others, who’d been through similarly horrific events, were undergoing the process.

It had always been like this with her and people she cared about. She followed them while they pursued something else. Her brother always was obsessed with work, or the air force, and now Umbrella. Something always came first. Then Leon the same way and Steve, unable to see past what happened to his family and get over his boyish games and say what he felt until he himself died; three men in her life all of whom had something else that came before her. She didn’t begrudge them that. But she wanted... something for herself.

‘God, I sound so selfish.’ Claire chided herself yet again. ‘I’m lucky to have a brother like Chris. Not everyone would go halfway across the world to save their sister. I’m even luckier to have survived all that I’ve been through. There were so many others that didn’t... I shouldn’t be a spoiled, bratty little girl. I should support them and continue to support them.’ Yes, that was what she’d do. But still she couldn’t help but continue to want; she couldn’t help wishing.

Byron Gates sighed as he closed the door of his home and put his coat and hat on the rack right next to the entryway. The ‘entryway’ was more like a huge hallway with a door off to its left and another to its right that led to a spare dining room. Also a staircase ended here leading up to the second floor. His house was two stories tall, not including the roof/balcony level on top. It was a little extravagant for a divorced man in his forties living on his own, but he didn’t care. He had the money and he could spend it on whatever he damn well pleased. It wasn’t like his ex-wife was around telling him how to spend it anymore. True he had to pay child’s support despite the fact the children were in her custody, but it didn’t make even a dent in his tremendous pocketbook.

What had put a dent in his pocketbook, or at least his continued income, was the suspension of Umbrella’s business practices. He, like so many other Umbrella executives, had experienced a massive loss because of the government investigation. Yet he was one of the fortunate few. He caught wind of the pending government interference in the corporation’s business and liquidated his holdings in the company. True what he did was illegal, but no more illegal than the things he’d done with the corporation. Besides, he’d come out better than most. Leave the burning building while you can as his father used to say. Of course many others like him weren’t so fortunate, but those who burned burned and those who made it out made it. It was that simple in his eyes.

After putting everything up and locking his door he moved through the hall and into the main room, which also opened up into the kitchen and primary dining room. Everything in the place was meticulously clean, as he’d always kept it. He even placed his care next the couch and pressed it up against it so that it didn’t clutter the area. Byron hated clutter and messes. He didn’t know how people could stand it. Some people said he was obsessive compulsive in his meticulous behavior, but that didn’t matter to him. Other people or their opinions didn’t matter to him.

‘Damn, I should have eaten a bigger lunch.’ He thought as his stomach growled. “Diana!” He called for his maid as he walked into the dining room. “Diana, where are you? You were supposed to have dinner ready when I got back.” Byron looked around, but there was no one to be seen. “Damn it, get out here!” He wasn’t a very patient man and he wasn’t in a good mood. Hunger usually did that to him. Normally his yelling would bring anyone running, especially considering any employee of his knew how unstable their job was. He’d run through maid after maid simply because of how hard to please he was.

It was then something caught his eye. It was his dining room table. The thing was covered in what looked like newspaper and magazine clippings. The thing was a complete mess. “What the fuck as she been up to?” Byron muttered as he walked to the table and stopped. ‘Umbrella Shut Down!’ One read. ‘Pharmaceutical Company Charges With Wrongdoing.’ ‘Umbrella’s Stocks Disintegrate.’ ‘Hundreds Put Out Of Work By Umbrella’s Suspension.’ All of the articles had similar themes to them. All of them were about Umbrella’s downfall.

“See something that interests you?” Byron turned sharply at the sound of a cold, imperious, feminine voice and froze. Where had this woman come from? He’d been looking for his maid little more than a few seconds ago and he should have seen her. In fact there was no way he could have missed her if she’d been standing where she was now, in the dining room by the second stairwell not 20 feet from him. She was regally dressed and seemed to carry herself in a manner her voice would have one presume; like royalty. Her hair was long, straight, and blond and with her blue eyes screamed Arian. Her face held no emotion or expression. In fact it reminded him of a dolls; beautiful, perfect, but unfeeling. She was beautiful, let there be no doubt, but it was unearthly and alien.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” Byron demanded, none-the-less stepping back away from her despite his intent to seem in control.

“You should recognize me. It’s been more than 15 years, but you shouldn’t be able to forget my face.” Her red lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t a warm gesture. Rather it was as cold as her eyes and voice. “I’m Alexia Ashford.”

“Alexia...” Slowly his eyes widened in recognition and fear. “But that... you’re dead. You died a long time ago. The last member of the Ashford family, Alfred, died after the Rockfort attack.”

“Yes, that was an unfortunate loss, but nothing crippling. It is amazing how ignorant you are when it comes tot eh truth, especially considering you were supposedly one of the largest of the corporation’s stockholders.”

“I know about you.” Byron countered, seeming more than a little miffed at her insinuation that there were things going on in the company he wasn’t privy to. Of course it was true, which was why it was so aggravating.

“Yes you do know about my birth, or should I say creation. You know about how my worthless worm of a father came about us without a wife.” Indeed Alexander Ashford had artificially made the twins. Through use of modern science he managed to inject the DNA of their family’s founder, Veronica Ashford, into a developing embryo and then manipulated its development for intelligence; intelligence comparable to the great Veronica herself. In this he succeeded better than he could have hopped. Twins were born, Alexia and Alfred, the former of which being gifted with great intelligence. Alfred, the latter, was not so gifted.

Alexia had been an absolute prodigy, stretching the boundaries of human intelligence. BY age 6 she was capable of grasping the most complex of mathematical equations, chemical reactions, and physiological properties. She seemed almost to absorb knowledge. By 8 she was assisting her father in his work. By ten she was more accomplished than just about every scientist working for the corporation, even her rival William Birkin. But she disappeared from the face of the earth and most employees that knew them were informed that she and her father had died in an accident. The truth was quite different.

Alexia had grown up with an all consuming hatred of her father; hatred that had burned in her since finding out about her origin. She was as much his pet science project as his daughter and the ambitious Alexia would have none of that. Yet she never shared her feelings with anyone, not even her brother, who had grown up in awe of her, adoring her like a goddess. She simply played the part of the ‘good little girl’ for her father and lorded it over everyone one else, Alfred included. But when she turned ten she made an incredible breakthrough in studying a piece of work called the progenitor virus, or rather what had come from it; the T-Virus. She’d created the T-Veronica Virus. At last she now held the power to have her revenge and to take the glory that rightfully belonged to her, only to her. She turned the tables on her father. He became the experiment and she the scientist. Of course the T-Veronica Virus ravaged his mind and made him little more than an unthinking monster, but that only added to the sweetness of her victory. If she hadn’t been aware of what happened when the T-Veronica Virus rejected its host she might very well have ended up like him.

Of course it had taken her 15 years to become one with the virus. 15 years in that little tank her brother had put her in.
“But I’m afraid, oh woeful commoner, that you don’t know what happened to me after that.”

“Alexia Ashford died at her father’s research facility in the Antarctic. You’re an imposter!”

“You insult me. A stupid thing to do when I hold the power between us. I am an Ashford. I am above you.” She took a single step closer to him.”

“You about power when you broke into my house?” He reached into his suit and removed a handgun he’d bought for his protecting years ago. “Legally I could shoot you here and now. I have the gun. I have the...” Alexia closed her eyes and in the next instant what looked like tentacles of flesh ripped up through the wooden floor and wrapped themselves around him. They were unnaturally strong and lightening fast. Byron soon found his hands pinned to his sides and unable to move. “What the hell, let me go! What is this?”

“Stop shouting, I find it annoying. Annoy me and it will crush you.” Instantly the cowed executive stopped moving and went completely silent. “I am Alexia Ashford. My disappearance marked my injection with the T-Veronica Virus and my period of merging. You do know what the T-Virus is right?” He nodded. “The T-Veronica Virus was my own project. My father had his hands in it of course, but don’t let the old fool, taking credit for everything I did, fool you. It was mine and now it part of me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? You’re crazy. You’d be a zombie if you did that.”

“Foolish man” she laughed girlishly, as though demonstrating her power over him. “You know nothing. I’m no zombie nor am I human; I’m so much more now. Of course I’ve always been above you.” The man’s face went red, but considering the situation he stayed quiet. “Human’s are like ants in more ways than just their insignificance. They’re born with social roles. Most of you are normal, workers or even soldiers sometimes. Worthless, numerous, common, and disposable. Then there are those select few like myself born to be queens.”

Alexia had always been fascinated by insects, particularly by the beautiful dragonfly and the colony based ants. The later were her favorites and indeed when the Redfields had injured her she had mutated to resemble a queen ant; a queen and of T-Virus Creatures. Of course those two damned Redfields had almost annihilated her evolved form, almost being the keyword. Then there had been the destruction of the base...

That event had been a wake-up call for the power drunk Alexia. Her initial plans had been to step up to her proper place atop the world and rule a race of T-Veronica creatures, a race of advanced man, and one thought would admire her genius for eternity. She’d wanted it all, everything, and she’d thought she’d had the power to do it. She didn’t doubt her ability or intelligence, but the two Redfields had proved that such overt measures were useless. No matter how much power the physically had such a takeover was beyond her without careful preparation. This time her game would be much different from before, oh yes.

As loathe as she was to admit it she’d been sure what had been her wake-up call would end in her destruction, but it had not been so. She was more resilient than she’d first surmised. However she’d grown more grotesque in doing so. When she’d first began to transform she’d felt intoxicated, powerful; so much so she didn’t care what she’d become. All alone in the Antarctic however she slowly sank into madness; an insanity deeper than the one in which she normally resided. She mourned the loss of her beauty, cursed the Redfields, cursed Albert Wesker, cursed her brother for failing her, cursed boy for helping the girl to escape, and cursed the world for not recognizing that she was a queen among all humans, as a queen ant ruled the colony.

But as time went by and she became more accustomed to the powers the T-Veronica Virus gave her she found she was capable of controlling her own mutation, eventually managing to restore her form, with some minor improvements to her physical capabilities of course. With the return of her form she began to rein in her faculties. She would not allow the lowly to lay her low. She was an Ashford. She would attain he proper place and take revenge upon everyone who got in her way.

So she set about, still in an unstable state, finding a way off of Antarctica. During this time she was forced to come face to face with yet another thing she’d hadn’t yet had to contend with, something that destabilized her even more before her eventual, partial, recovery. Loneliness. Always before she’d had people to work under her, ‘lab animals’, people in many cases, to torment, use, and study, her brother, and rivals to outdo. But up in the Antarctic there was no one and she found that she had the same weakness as the rest of the pathetic human race. She was unsettled when completely alone. She was a Queen and yet she needed the lowly workers and soldiers. Even breeders would have helped as useless as the caste was.

She was also forced to confront that she’d always felt something akin to loneliness, although not on this great a scale. And with nothing better to do, and being a scientist at heart, she analyzed this. She was an Ashford; the only creature capable of understanding true perfection. It was because she didn’t have an equal. Perhaps that was only right, after all queens from rival colonies competed until one died, however in her studies she’d long since learned of the rare event among some species of ant where more than one, or to be more specific two, queens ruled in the same colony. Perhaps...just perhaps...

Her escape finally came in the form of several researchers working on studying the local wildlife. They were all now dead of course, but they’d proven quite useful to her.

“I didn’t come here to bandy about words with you however. I only came here for what I want from you. First I want money. With Umbrella gone and my family’s legacy destroyed I have little left. Of course you helped to dismantle what my family spent so long trying to build up. We helped found it you know. My ancestor Edward, Spencer, and James Marcus. You profited form its collapse. It is only right I profit from you.”

“My money’s in banks and in other stock options. You can’t get it. Only I can and if you do anything to me...”

“You insult my intelligence. And I think I warned you about insulting me,” The tentacles tightened dangerously as if to accentuate her words. “I know you are a paranoid man and I’ve already learned of your ‘secret caches’. You’re wealthier than your living conditions would lead one to believe. I shall take what I want from you and you cannot stop me. I could kill you, but it has been so long since I’ve had a true research subject and I feel almost out of practice.”

Byron’s eyes widened as the woman now began to move forward, bearing down on him. He’d heard so many things about the child genius that had worked under Alexander that he knew, if this was indeed Alexia, just what she was capable of. She was a sadist, pure and simply. He’d heard about the disappearances of researchers and security guards from the Antarctic base before her own disappearance and he’d heard stories from those who survived the games she and her brother played when they weren’t working... of the needles.. of the pain, of their childish laughter and morbid curiosity. He was screwed.

‘At least for now I can deal with that...feeling.’ True this man wasn’t even close to being her equal, but he would relieve that pain somewhat... at least as long as he held out. ‘Soon I shall take my rightful place in this world. Soon I shall have my revenge and take all that should have been mine.’