The Umbrella Management Training Facility.Monitoring Room.
"..."
"I don't care about the science, William. I care about the exposure. The leak has happened. We need damage control."
Wesker leaned into the microphone, his voice cutting through the static.
"Delta Team, do you copy? This is Wesker. Your orders are to destroy the train immediately. Obliterate all evidence. Leave no trace. If word gets out that Umbrella is behind this, you two are finished along with the rest of us. Do it clean."
"Understood?"
The man speaking was a masterpiece of villainy.
Blonde hair gelled back with military precision. A face chiseled from granite, expressionless as a poker table. Sunglasses worn indoors at night. A simple S.T.A.R.S. uniform that somehow looked like a designer suit.
Albert Wesker.
The primary antagonist of the series. Double agent. Backstabber. Bio-engineering prodigy. The man who would eventually dodge bullets like Neo, teleport like a ghost, and try to become a God. Also known as "Old K," Chris Redfield's nemesis (and obsession), and the father of a son he didn't know existed.
Beside him stood the frantic man in the white coat.
William Birkin.
A brilliant virologist who had been Marcus's student since he was sixteen. He was obsessed with viruses, eventually surpassing his teacher by creating the G-Virus.
"G" stood for Golgotha, but Birkin preferred "God." He wanted to create a new race of "G-Humans."
While Wesker was the cool, calculating "Top," Birkin was undoubtedly the neurotic "Bottom" in their professional relationship.
"Wesker..." Birkin chewed his thumbnail. "This is bad. Spencer is going to have my head. If I lose my lab... if I lose G..."
He was already spiraling. The patricide he committed against Marcus was coming back to haunt him.
The Ecliptic Express.Engine Deck.
Bzzzt...
"Copy that, Command. Delta Team will prioritize train destruction. The weather is interfering with the signal. We're signing off to set the charges. Out."
The two U.B.C.S. soldiers nodded to each other. Destroying the train was easier than clearing it.
However, just as they reached for their explosives...
Squish... Slither...
A wet, rustling sound echoed from above.
The soldiers looked up, squinting into the rain.
"What the—?"
HISS—!!!
A low, guttural shriek pierced the storm.
In the flash of lightning, the roof of the train seemed to come alive. A massive wave of black slime poured over the edge. Hundreds of leeches, moving as a single hive mind, dropped onto the platform.
They swarmed over the soldiers instantly.
"CONTACT! CONTACT!"
"Get it off! What are these things?!"
"My neck! It's digging in! AHHH—!!!"
The screams were terrible but short. The leeches burrowed into gaps in their armor, their razor-sharp mouths tearing through flesh and arteries. In seconds, the two elite mercenaries were reduced to drained husks, collapsing onto the wet metal deck.
The radio clattered to the floor.
Static...
"Delta Team? Report! What is happening?" Wesker's voice demanded from the device.
But only the sound of wet feeding answered him.
Inside the Carriage.
Havel, Rebecca, and Billy watched in horror through the glass door.
They now knew exactly what had killed everyone on board.
"Those things..." Billy muttered, gripping his iron bar. "They ate those guys alive in seconds."
But the leeches weren't done.
Having finished the appetizer, the hive mind sensed more prey nearby. The mass of black slime shifted, turning toward the glass door.
Slap... Slap...
Leeches began to stick to the glass. Then, some coiled their bodies and launched themselves through the broken pane.
Shatter!
They poured into the carriage like a tide of oil.
"They're coming in!" Rebecca shouted, backing away.
The sight was nightmare fuel. Hundreds of fist-sized, eyeless worms writhing toward them with singular purpose.
Billy looked at his metal cane, then at the swarm. He swallowed hard.
"I don't think hitting them with a stick is going to work."
"Hey! Catch!"
Rebecca shouted, tossing something through the air.
Billy caught it instinctively. It was his handgun.
He looked at her, surprised.
"Don't make me regret it!" she yelled, drawing her own Samurai Edge.
"Incoming!" Havel roared from the front. "OPEN FIRE!"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
BOOM—!!!
The three of them unleashed a wall of lead.
Havel's shotgun roared, blasting clumps of leeches into paste. Billy and Rebecca fired rapidly, their 9mm rounds popping the creatures like balloons.
Black blood and slime sprayed everywhere.
But there were too many. For every one they killed, three more slithered forward. They were fast, leaping off seats and walls.
Splat!
"Damn it!"
A leech latched onto Havel's armored vest. Then another on his leg.
He shook them off, but they were relentless. He could see the swarm closing in, ready to bury them.
Plan B, Havel thought.
He reached to his belt and unclipped a cylinder.
"FLASHBANG!"
He screamed the warning, pulling the pin.
"Eyes closed! Ears covered! Get down!"
He threw the grenade five meters ahead, into the center of the swarm, and dove behind a seat, curling into a ball.
Rebecca and Billy didn't hesitate. They dove for cover, burying their heads in their arms.
PING!
FLASH—!!!
A blinding white light, brighter than the lightning outside, exploded in the confined space.
7 million candela.
Even with eyes closed, the world turned white. The concussion wave rattled their teeth.
But for the leeches, it was agony.
The creatures were photosensitive. The intense flash fried their sensory organs instantly.
Screeee—!
The swarm convulsed. The leeches writhed in pain, flipping onto their backs, curling up into helpless balls. Some simply burst from the shock.
Silence fell over the car, save for the ringing in their ears.
Havel shook his head to clear the dizziness. He stood up, shotgun ready.
The floor was covered in twitching, incapacitated leeches.
"It worked," Havel grinned behind his mask. "Light 'em up while they're down!"