This story is the unholy lovechild of my love of Resident Evil and playing Mercenaries a lot in RE4.

Now, if people ask about it enough, I may write serious fan fic or two about HUNK...

Ahem. Resident Evil, Agent HUNK, Big Macs, and all other symbols and products mentioned/referenced/used/parodied in this story are property of their respective owners. I do not claim ownership of anything. I own nothing whatsoever. So please don't sue me.

10 Years...

10 have past since the Outbreaks. I was part of the USS unit sent in to retrieve the G-Virus sample from William Birkin. My codename was Agent HUNK, but to my comrades I was known as Mr. Death. Things went smooth at first. We infiltrated the lab with ease, and found Birkin alongside the samples. Things went a little downhill when Birkin refused to turn over the sample. He knew what Umbrella wanted it for. Death. Destruction. War. He had only intended it for medicinal purposes, and was going to turn it over to the US Government, along with all the info on Umbrella's Black Projects. We attempted to obtain the samples without trouble... But a jumpy agent with an itchy trigger finger got spooked and shot the poor guy. His life wasn't important, but the research was. We left him for dead and took the G-Virus samples. Our mission was accomplished.

Or so we had thought. Birkin had somehow kept one sample. Injecting himself with the virus, whether to prolong his life, take vengance, or conduct one final test, he transformed into a hideous creature. While preparing for evac, he ambushed our squad in the sewers. We were no match for that abomination. He wiped us out. No survivors. The samples were spilt into the sewers, and the G-Virus was spread to the population of Racoon City. Soon... the Worst Case Scenario came to be. A full viral outbreak in a large population center. The entire city became overrun with zombies, mutants, and other such things. Eventually, the governement contained the outbreak... by nuking the city.

My squad was murdered. My unit was wiped out. I was left for dead.

But the Death cannot Die.

Leon stepped out of the SUV, examining his surroundings. He was in the middle of the boonies, Spanish-style. Rope bridges, log cabins, the works. Leon sighed. He always got these crappy jobs. Some psychos had kidnapped the Presidents daughter. Woopdie-doo. Why did they have to send him? He had no anti-terrorist experience. He just excelled in killing monsters and shooting things until they stopped twitching. So why send him? Its not like he'd have to fight monsters or something...

"Oi! Cowboy!" the Policia agent sneered at him from inside the SUV. "What's the hold up? Go check that suspicious looking cabin over there!"

Leon looked over at the pitiful excuse at the end of the path. "That one?" he nodded. The cop glared at him. "Okay... Okay..." Leon pulled out his pistol and checked his watch. He hoped to get this mission done over with fast. He had tickets to a ball game tommorrow. He figured he'd go in, ask a few questions, and if the guy didn't want to talk, he'd shoot his kneecaps out and ask nicely.

"..." The cops watched as Leon crept over to the front door. Without knocking, he went inside. "El Americano es un idioto..." the driver shoot his head.

Leon slowly made his way inside. The house was dusty and infested with cobwebs. As he turned and entered the living room of the house, he found himself in the presence of some old guy. The man was shoving stuff into a fireplace, and the smell of burnt meat filled the air. Was he cooking burgers? Leon was starving... "Excuse me?"

"Eh?" the old man glared over his shoulder.

"Are you cooking burgers?" Leon asked, his mouth watering at the mere thought of a Big Mac.

"Yo quiero mater usted..." the man growled, sneakily reaching for a hatchet.

"Oh, right, I'm in Spain..." Leon paused to think. "Yo... quieroooo... un... hamburgesa... por favor?" Leon asked.

"MUERE!" the man screamed, swinging the weapon quite innaccurately at Leon.

"Dude, you don't have to be so greedy!" Leon jumped backwards. "Have you seen this girl, then?" Leon held out a picture of the President's daughter.


"You love America?" Leon smiled. "That's great!"

"Crrrck... LEON!" his radio yelled at him from his belt.

"Huh?" Leon looked down, "Wassat?"

"Leon, shoot him!" a woman yelled through the radio.

"Okay..." Leon shrugged. As the man ran at Leon, the hatchet raised high above his head to strike, Leon raised his gun.


"PORQUE?!" the man dropped to his knees and screamed as blood sprayed from the bullet holes in his chest.

"I'M SORRY!" Leon pulled a box of bandages out of his jacket and rushed to the man's aid. "THE RADIO LADY THING TOLD ME TO DO IT!!!" Leon did his best to save the man, but there was nothing he could do to fix three point blank shots to the heart. The man died in Leon's arms, a look of hatred still stuck on his face. "NOOOOOOO!!!!" Leon screamed, lifting a blood-smeared hand to the ceiling. "HE WAS SO YOUNG!!! SO YOUNNNNNG!!!"

"Okay, screw it," the radio squacked. "You're a bad choice for this mission. We're sending somebody else in..."

"He didn't deserve it... And its all because I wanted a burger..."

"And he will relieve you of your duties..."

"What?!" Leon jumped to his feet, kicking the corpse out of his way. "No way you're replacing me with some other dude!"

"Too late, I already called it in..."

"Bullcrap, radio lady! Bullcrap!"

"My name is Hunnigan..."

"Hunnigan? What kind of woman goes by the name Hunnigan?" Leon raised an eyebrow.


"Hello? Hello? Honey-Bun? Where'd ya go?" Leon shook the radio like a broken toy.

Thus ends the first chapter. Who shall this new operative be? Gee, I wonder...