Five children sat around the table, one of them holding a baby. Their parents are about to run off again, on some business trip for a few months. Their parents tried to explain to them again and again that they'd only be gone for a while, but the children knew the truth. Their parents would be gone for months on end, return for a week or two, then be called off again.

There was the twins - the eldest of the group of six children - Artemis - the female - and Apollo - the male. They were born in Greece, and their parents were on a Greek God kick. They are both fourteen.

Artemis had dark salt and pepper hair that went down to the middle of her back and deep sapphire eyes that seemed to be delicately placed into her pale skin that was splashed with freckles. She was born first out of the two.

Apollo was almost the exact opposite from his elder sister. He had bleach blond hair, emerald green eyes, and a natural tanned skin. He was bulky in his arms and had a leaner figure than most would. Of course, he was a football player, and Artemis constantly joked about his curves*.

The three only things the two had in common were freckles that covered their faces, their outgoing daredevil borderlined suicidle attitude, and the over-protectiveness over their younger siblings.

Then there was the trouble maker of the group, Christian. He was a tiny little devil that had bright ginger locks, pale skin, an impish smile that showed a missing front tooth, freckles dancing along his nose and under his coal black eyes. His siblings call him Chris. He is ten.

There was the geek, Charlot. Her curly brown hair matched her hazel eyes that were covered by purple wire framed glasses. She seemed to be the only normal one out of the group.

The only thing she had in common with her siblings was her freckles. Her siblings called her Care- Bear. She is eight.

There was Tommy, the seven year old who decided that he needed to be punk when he was six. His hair is dyed multipul colors and he has several peircings on his right eyebrows. His hair is pulled up into a large mohawk, his skin was pale, had a tounge piercing, a lip peircing, five peircing's on his left ear, three on his right ear, and since he's too young to get a real tatoo (you have to be eighteen), his arms were covered with temporary tatoo's. His face, arms, and chest were covered in freckles. He's seven.

Then there was little baby Ally. She has the brightest, the bluest, the biggest eyes they have ever seen. She is pale like the rest of them, and has the lightest blonde hair out there. Her freckles were so light you could barely see them, but they were there. She's one.

The Monroe children were gathered around the table, staring at their parents as they told the children the same thing's they had heard hundred's of times before. Do your homework, don't get in trouble, don't break the house, and respect the babysitter.

Ah the babysitter. Who is it this time? Another old lady? Ex- Military commander? College student? What does it matter? The Monroe children never bother to learn their babysitter's names because they're usually gone within the week.

But not this time. Their parent's hired someone they used to work for - it was his down time. They knew he would be hard to chase away.

This man worked for S.T.A.R.S and Umbrella and Tricell. This man has been all over the world. This man betrayed his team and is rated the world's highest risked terrorist. This man has died multipul times and has kept coming back. Their parents were absolutely postive that their kids couldn't chase him away.

The doorbell rang out through the large house, a fancy chime sounding one. Mr. and Mrs. Monroe smiled as the butler answered the door. A blonde man was led inside the entery way, through a hall way, and into the kitchen.

Charlot screamed, hands flying to her face, Ally started bawling, Tommy dropped his spoon into his Lucky Charm Cereal, Christian flew out of his chair, Apollo ushered the younging's out of the kitchen, Ally held in his arms, and Artemis threw a fork at the man standing in the enterance to the Kitchen.

He stared at the fork imbedded into his cheast, then back up at Artemis. She was holding a butter knife as if it was a sword, and wasn't made of plastic. His sunglasses slid down his nose and red eyes flashed.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes. You're Albert Wesker." Artemis' eyes flew towards the phone laying on the side table beside the couch in the living room. "You used to work for S.T.A.R.S. before you killed everyone except a few people. You're a monster." With that said, she dashed towards the phone, diving when she was close enough, and snatched it off of the cradel.

Wesker blurred into the living room, glaring at the young girl. She quickly dialed in the B.S.A.A. phone number and waited for the call to be picked up.

"Hello, this is B.S.A.A. how can we help yo-"

Artemis' head snapped up to Wesker, who was pressing down the end call button on the cradel. A smirk was gracing his features.

"Now, now, that wasn't very nice." Wesker moved around the side table slowly, acting as if he had all the time in the world. Then again, if he wanted to have rushed he could have. It's almost as if he's treating Artemis like one would towards a wounded, scared, and cornered wild animal.

He walked forward, and with each step he took, Artemis took one backwards. Eventually, Wesker had her backed into a wall. He smirked and placed his hands on either side of her head, blocking her in.

Sapphire eyes darted about the room, looking for any possible way to escape. She saw Apollo creep back down stairs and watched him shift about, lining up to tackle Wesker. Artemis' gaze shifted back onto Wesker, glaring at him. With a quick movement, the plastic knife she was holding was lodged into Wesker's neck, just as Apollo tackled him.

The twins fled upstairs and locked themselves in their room with their younger siblings. After baracading the door by pushing a dresser infront of it. Artemis leaned against the dresser, wipping sweat away from her forehead with the back of her hand.

Ally started to whimper and Artemis stood, picking up the baby and started to rock her back and forth, bouncing up and down on her heels, and cooed out the "Hush Little Baby" lullaby. Ally slowly calmed down, sobs turning back into whimpers, and those whimpers turned to tiny snores as she fell back asleep.

They jumped when a bang echoed into the room they were hiding in, then their parents screams of rage telling them to get down there right this instant before they were grounded. Tommy snorted at that. Grounded? They barely had athourity over the children, what makes them think that they could ground them?

They haven't even truelly raised the kids. They were gone most of the time, and nannies and babysitters where always bouncing in and out of the house, not being able to stand more than two weeks in the hell hole of a house.

Sighing, Apollo and Christian shoved the dresser out of the way, and sulked downstairs, gathering back into the kitchen.

"Now," their mother began, "you will behave properly towards Mr. Wesker. You will treat him with respect, and you will not report him to the B.S.A.A. You will not attack him again."

Their father adressed Wesker. "Don't be afraid to call if anything goes wrong. Things for the baby are in her room. I trust you've delt with children before. Shit!" Their father cursed, glancing at the clock hanging in the kitchen. "Honey," he adressed his wife, "we have to leave now or we'll miss our plane."

And with that, they were gone. No good bye to the children, there never was anymore.

An akward silence crept into the room as the children turned around and faced Wesker. After an intense staring contest, the children slowly filtered out of the room, and dissapeared into different parts of the Monroe Mansion.

End Chapter One.

A.N: Well, this is what I've been working on in the past few weeks.

Dominique and I had this idea brewing in our heads since the summer, and I finally decided to get it down.

Curves: I can't say all football players have curves, but two of my friends, who both play football do. It's almost as if their coach makes them do excersizes for curves.

This was Beta'd by the lovely Polaris Nocturnal.