Spencer's Mansion – Abandoned Wing
The corridor groaned around them, air damp with mold and stone dust. Their lantern light guttered against the warped wood of the walls, shadows trembling like they wanted to break free.
Jack's Viral Sense screamed. It wasn't a pulse or a whisper this time — it was a full-body burn, crawling up his spine like fire. He froze mid-step, every nerve pulled taut.
"Stop," he hissed, raising a hand.
Barry shifted Richard's weight off Rebecca's shoulder and onto his own, revolver half-raised. "What now?"
Jack's jaw clenched, sweat beading at his temple. "Something's here. Close."
The sound came then — faint, but enough to hollow out the space between heartbeats. A slow drag of iron against stone. The clink of chains too heavy to be carried by anything human.
Rebecca's eyes widened. "What… what is that?"
A groan answered her. Low, guttural, scraping the air like nails down glass. It wasn't language, but the desperate echo of it still bled through:
"Maaa… maaa…"
The shadows at the end of the corridor shifted. Then they moved.
She emerged half-shrouded in dark, dragging links of chain that rattled with every step. Her body was warped and hunched, skin stretched taut over masses of muscle and scar. Faces — old, shriveled, grotesque — hung from her like trophies, stitched into her flesh. Her eyes were hidden beneath the mask of a skull, her voice a broken child's cry inside a monster's shell.
Barry's knuckles went white around the Magnum. "Jesus Christ…"
Rebecca froze, trembling, her breath shallow as Richard stirred weakly in her arms.
Lisa Trevor shuffled forward, head twitching in jagged motions, chains clattering like thunder in the stillness. Her moan rose, echoing through the mansion's bones:
"Maaa… maaaa…"
Jack's stomach knotted. This wasn't like the Tyrant, or Plant 42, or any infected he'd fought before. This was older. Rawer. A nightmare that didn't know it should have died.
"Go," Jack muttered, stepping forward, pistol coming up.
"What?" Jill's eyes flicked toward him, incredulous.
"You heard me." His voice was flat, heavy with finality. "Get Richard clear. I'll hold it."
Rebecca's head snapped toward him, panic flashing in her eyes. "Jack—"
"Move!" he barked, his Viral Sense blazing white-hot as Lisa dragged her chains another step closer.
Barry swore under his breath but shifted Richard fully onto his shoulder, grabbing Rebecca by the arm. "You heard him, kid. Let's go."
Rebecca hesitated, her lips parting like she wanted to argue, but Jill caught her wrist and pulled her back. Her eyes stayed on Jack, sharp with something unspoken, before she turned to follow Barry.
Jack stood alone now, facing the hulking figure that filled the corridor.
The chains rattled. The moan came again, closer, louder, more desperate.
"Maaa… maaaa…"
Jack's grip tightened on the M9. "Alright, big girl. Let's see what Umbrella turned you into."
Lisa's chains clattered as she lurched forward, the floor trembling under her weight. Her warped silhouette filled the hall, every step accompanied by that broken moan.
Jack's trigger finger flexed. He fired.
Bang—bang—bang.
Three rounds punched into her chest, the M9's muzzle flash lighting up her grotesque mask. She barely reacted. The bullets sank into her flesh like pebbles tossed into a swamp, her moan never faltering.
"Of course," Jack muttered. "Figures."
Lisa swung one of her chains. Jack ducked, the iron links slamming into the wall, exploding plaster into dust. He rolled forward and slashed with his knife, steel biting into rubbery flesh. A spray of blackened ichor hissed against his arm like acid.
Lisa groaned, jerking her head toward him. She moved faster than her size promised — one massive hand shot out and clamped around his neck.
"Shit—!" Jack coughed as her grip closed tighter.
She lifted him like a doll and slammed him into the wall. Stone cracked, the air punched from his lungs. Black spots crawled at the edge of his vision.
Jack jammed his knife into her arm. She didn't let go. Instead, she squeezed harder, his neck threatening to snap under the pressure.
"Maaaa… maaa…"
The sound of his heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Jack's pistol slipped from his grip, clattering to the floor. His arms went numb. His bones groaned under the crushing force.
His heart pounded. His breath grew ragged. The Virus in his veins started whispering, demanding release, demanding survival.
And then—
Something broke loose inside him.
His veins darkened, bulging against his skin. His eyes flashed, pupils narrowing, a feral red glow igniting. His muscles surged, tearing against her grip before knitting back stronger. The world bled red.
[VIRAL SURVIVAL SYSTEM]
Warning: Death imminent.
Forced Mutation Triggered.
Adaptation Acquired: Viral Fury – Unstable Surge (Triggered).
Effect: When the User is at death's door, the Aegis Virus unleashes a berserk adaptation. Triples physical stats (strength, speed, reflexes, durability, healing).
Cost: +1% viral infection per minute.
Risk: Prolonged use may result in loss of control. Burns through calories.
Jack's hand shot up, clamping around Lisa's wrist. Muscles bulged grotesquely as he forced her arm outward, the bones in her forearm popping under the strain. His lips peeled back in a snarl that was more beast than man.
With a roar, he ripped himself free and drove his fist into her chest. The impact boomed through the corridor like an explosion, dust and stone showering them both. Lisa staggered back, groaning, chains rattling.
She retaliated instantly. Both chains swung wide, slamming into Jack's ribs like wrecking balls. Bone cracked audibly — and then healed just as fast. Jack didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He stepped forward into the next blow, letting it crash into his shoulder, flesh tearing open and knitting together in the same heartbeat.
Lisa moaned louder, confused, frustrated. "Maaaa… maaaa…"
Jack answered with a brutal hook that smashed into her jaw, snapping her head sideways. Black ichor burst across the wall. He followed with a savage elbow that sank into her ribs, the sound wet and meaty.
She swung again. He let it hit. The chain wrapped around his arm, tearing skin to ribbons — but the virus surged, the black veins crawling higher up his neck, sealing the wounds almost instantly. Jack grabbed the chain and yanked, dragging Lisa down toward him.
With his free hand, he slammed into her mask with a crack that split stone. Then again. And again. Each strike sent shockwaves through the hall until the walls groaned.
Lisa thrashed, moaning, but Jack drove her back step by step, fists pounding like hammers. Hooks, straights, hammerfists — every strike brutal, unrelenting. His knuckles split and healed with every punch, ichor and blood splattering across his face.
Finally, he clamped both hands onto her skull-mask, veins bulging black and furious. With a roar that shook the corridor, he slammed her head into the wall, again and again, until cracks spiderwebbed across the stone.
Lisa hung limp in his grip, her grotesque mask cracked, her body twitching with stubborn, unnatural life. His black-veined hands clamped tighter around her skull, muscles bulging, ready to crush until nothing was left.
"Jack!" Jill's voice cut sharp through the haze.
He didn't hear her. Not really. All he saw was red — the Virus screaming for him to end it. To rip, to tear, to destroy. His breath came in ragged, feral bursts, saliva dripping from clenched teeth. His eyes glowed faint in the dark, more beast than man.
Rebecca darted forward, planting herself between him and the wall before he could bring Lisa's head down again. Her hands pressed against his chest, small but unyielding. "Jack, stop! That's enough!"
He snarled, veins bulging up his neck, his grip tightening until Lisa groaned weakly. The Virus pushed. Kill. Finish it. Prove you're stronger.
"Jack!" Jill's voice cracked now, louder, closer. She'd holstered her pistol, her hands raised — but there was something in her eyes he hadn't seen before. Fear.
Rebecca's voice trembled, but not for Lisa — for him. "Jack, please… you're scaring us."
That cut deeper than any wound. Through the red haze, he saw their faces: Jill, steady but shaken, Rebecca, pale and desperate. Both of them looking at him not as an ally, not as a savior, but as if he were the monster in the room.
His breath hitched. His head pulsed like a war drum. His hands shook violently. The blackened veins surged one last time… then began to fade, retreating under his skin.
With a guttural roar, he shoved Lisa's broken body aside. Chains rattled as she slumped into the corner. She groaned, then crawled weakly back into the shadows — away from him.
Jack staggered back, slamming against the wall, chest heaving. He looked down at his bloodied, trembling hands. His eyes widened with fear — not of her, but of himself. He felt it; he really had lost control.
His voice cracked. "…I… almost…"
Rebecca's arms wrapped around him, her voice breaking. "You didn't. You came back."
Jill stepped up beside them, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. Her tone was steady, grounding, but her eyes still carried the echo of that fear. "We've got you, Jack."