"Listen to me, Senator. I can still control this situation-"
"Genevieve, you lost control of the situation when Fettel took over. I was stupid to have gone along with this as long as I did. Millions are dead, two cities wiped off the face of the Earth. No, this goes no further."
"Enough, Miss Aristide. I'm giving you a ten-minute head start because of our past. I suggest you start running."
19 YEARS LATER
"… We repeat, a toxic leak from the nearby power plant has possibly contaminated the groundwater here. The United States government has sent in the National Organization of Groundwater Contamination Prevention, in a move to possibly boost public opinion of the…"
The radio trailed off as we stepped forward to the police officer in charge. They had already successfully blocked off the entire town. Luckily the target point was right next to the security checkpoint.
"Agent Paxton Wade," I said, flashing my badge. "This is Agent Keira Stokes. We're here for the G.C.P.."
"Ah," the officer said, pulling the gate open. "Is the groundwater truly contaminated?"
"Not likely, sir. But we can't take any chances," Stokes responded, as we directed our lackeys through the gate, all of them wearing hazardous materials suits, carrying large crates.
"Equipment," I responded, catching the puzzled look of the officer. We entered the power plant quickly, locking the door behind us.
Stokes and I stripped off our trench coats, as the other four members stepped out of their haz-mat suits. They opened their crates, pulling out Kevlar and M4A1 assault rifles for everyone.
"Still weird you chose that name," Stokes said, zipping up her vest.
"I can't honor a dead brother?" I asked with a grin, pulling the KERNAL system on my eyes. I made sure the Kevlar sleeve that runs from my left shoulder down to my skeletal fingertips was still in place. I rubbed the patch on my left shoulder, the symbol of the United States Paranormal Investigation and Extermination Team.
"Energy levels were coming from below," the voice of Rowdy Betters crackled in our ears. "There should be a lift that takes you down."
"Roger," I said, my eyes flashing yellow as I commanded my squad, two leftover Replica soldiers, to fall in behind me. Stokes trusted real, live people, Navy SEALs who had been requisitioned into this new governmental organization.
We found the lift and pressed the down button, letting the lift take us down to a hidden basement.
The doors slid open with a whoosh, and we all moved forward, through the dark and trashed area. Computer monitors flickering static slightly illuminated the area, but not too much. We activated our flashlights and worked on securing the area.
"Clear," came the distorted voice of the Replicas.
"Clear," one of the SEALs responded.
"Clear," Stokes said.
I pointed my gun around the corner, finding…
"Clear," I breathed. We reconvened in the center of the room, the Replica soldiers leaning over a collapsed monitor and typing on the keyboard.
Everything here was trashed, but there was no rhyme or reason to it. One of the Replicas mentioned me to come over, and I read the last login on the computer screen.
"Genevieve Aristide," I said, as Stokes looked at me in surprise. Aristide was a fugitive, wanted for, according to the US Government, knowingly sabotaging the Fairport nuclear reactor.
"What the hell is this place?" I asked Stokes. She shrugged.
We both walked over to where one of the SEALs was. He was pointing at something, hidden back in another room. The room appeared to have once been a janitor's closet, eyes widening in surprise.
"Is that what I think it is?" Stokes asked me, as I nodded solemnly, touching the earpiece on my KERNAL system.
"Betters. We may have a problem."
We both continued to stare into the closet, fear tickling our skin. A telesthetic amplifier sat in the closet, a near replica of the one on Still Island all those years ago.
Aristide gave herself psychic powers.
I lowered and locked the chain gate that blocked our store from vandals and burglars at night, dusting my hands off and turning around in the mall.
"Bye Rodrigo," I said, flashing the elderly janitor a smile, while brushing a loose lock of black hair back behind my ear.
"Vaya con Dios Jen," he responded with a wave. I walked through the darkened mall, sipping on the very little remaining liquid in my iced coffee.
Dad hated me working the night shifts, but he was gone. On business. Like usual. I guess working for the National Organization of Groundwater Contamination Prevention was taxing and caused you to travel a lot.
Could've picked a better name though.
The mall was empty, like usual at this time, the only sound bouncing down the hall was the sound of Rodrigo's floor buffer.
A soft giggle made me stop in my tracks.
I turned, straw still in my mouth, glancing through the darkness toward the alcove leading to the nearest department store.
"Hello?" I asked.
The giggle sounded again, and I walked into the alcove.
A small red dress hung close to the ground. Another kid getting lost in here and forgotten about. I sighed.
"Hey, are you alright?" I asked, bending over. "It's okay, you can come with me."
She giggled again.
"What's your name?" I asked.
She stepped out of the shadow, her black hair cascading down her face, a small smile on her lips.
"My name is Alma."
It's been a long, strange road, but Her Name is Alma. is finally finished. After a two-year hiatus, where I was busy with work and life, I returned to this story with the intent to finish it.
I originally wrote my version of F.3.A.R. before the release of the actual game, and it was much more different in the original iteration of my version of the story. I ended up rewriting the final two chapters, leading to what you see today.
The original version of the story had Becket as the enemy, and Corpse Alma (aka the Creature) decided to side with the Point Man, Fettel and Little Alma. Stokes and Manny were intended to die, and Jin would've lived to raise the baby with Point Man.
Point Man has taken on the name of Paxton Wade, while his daughter's name is Jennifer Alice Wade (Jen = Jin, somewhat).
If anyone wants to take my ideas that I've outlined here for F.E.4.R., go for it. I have no intention of writing F.E.4.R. at this point in my career. A psychically powered Aristide goes to wreck revenge on everyone who has betrayed her, especially the Point Man, Alma and his daughter.
Anyway, special thank you's to quite a few people.
-The various YouTubers I utilized to get a refreshment of the game, specifically 0verlord73's playthrough.
-ShadowLea for being the first reviewer of the story.
-ZeromaruChaosMode for constantly reviewing the story.
-The owner and staff of the C2 Anime, Books and Videogame stories: Greatest Hits, who put my story in that collection.
-All of the reviewers who motivated me to finish this story.
And finally, most importantly, all of the readers who made writing this story such an enjoyable event. Thank you all.
If you enjoyed this story, and wish to see others, feel free to put me on your author alert list and/or favorite author list. If you wish to get a hold of me, feel free to private message me, and I will try my best to respond as soon as possible.
Once again, thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story!
Roger the Shrubber
FINAL STATS (as of the end of the story, 7/21/11)
Words (excluding Epilogue and A/N's): 99,332
Pages (Microsoft Word): 152