Resident Evil 20th Anniversary ||
BIOHAZARD 20TH ANNIVERSARY “Many games have been added to the series since the original Resident Evil was released back in 1996, and we would like to take this opportunity to say a special thanks to all of the fans around the world for the support that has kept us motivated over the years”.
So @hasuyawwn and I talk a lot about how Victor is going bald, and since I figured that I wouldn’t be able to pop out a new piece of art for each day of VictuuriWeek, I decided to do a series of derpy comics instead. :^)
Facts people tend to forget about in the creepypasta fandom
1. Slenderman is featured in many creepypastas but is not an actual creepypasta himself
2. Slenderman and The Operator are two different beings
3. The creator of Ticci Toby asked that Toby only be shipped with his canon girlfriend, Clockwork
4. Masky and Hoody are not creepypasta, they belong to the youtube series ‘Marble Hornets’
5. JEFF THE KILLER WAS 13 DURING HIS STORY
6. Jane the killer does not have a crush on Jeff the killer, nor are they in any type of relationship. Jane’s goal is to kill Jeff
7. There is no ‘creepypasta mansion’ or 'slenderman’s house’ in any canon of the more popular creepypasta
8. Many authors of famous pastas have either abandoned the fandom or let the internet take their characters because of how many people obsess over and misrepresent their characters (ex: the author of eyeless jack removed the story from the wiki and said there are much better things you could be reading)
9. Respect others opinions. With thousands of stories, both original and spin-offs, people have different opinions on all of them. (This goes for shipping as well, not everyone in this fandom ships pastas with other pastas)
10. THERE ARE MORE STORIES BESIDES JEFF THE KILLER. Read some and make some, keep the fandom circulating!
*Quick note before I start: This is the first installment in a series I’ve called the Lost Colonies which is largely about human society adapting to the strange environments of other worlds. You can read the other installments here: 2,3,4, 5, 6, 7. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed writing this series, but with my new work schedule I had to bring it to a close. If you’ve enjoyed this story follow me on here for my other writings. Thanks again to everyone who has reblogged, liked, replied, DMed, or otherwise shown their appreciation for this series. It means a lot to me that people enjoyed it and the love you’ve all shown me has really helped keep me going for these last few months.*
An adult Turic sits behind a desk jotting down notes as a recorder takes down the interview for future analysis.
“I understand that this entire ordeal has been stressful for you and your fellow colonists but due to your unique situation we would like to use this opportunity to better understand human culture. Please let me know if we need to stop or if there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable.”
The human, a younger female by the name of Kiara fidgets in her seat.
“No, I’m fine, I just haven’t ever seen an alien before. Hell, until a few months ago no one had ever heard anything but legends of people from outer space.”
The Turic looks down at his notes as he tries to reconcile this information.
“According to our research it says that your colony was originally founded just over 500 Sols ago. Are you saying that in that short amount of time your colony’s knowledge of spacefaring and other sapient races was erased?”
“I guess? What’s a Sol though? How long would that be?”
“Oh, a unit of time measurement based on the solar rotation of your home world. Prior to your race’s colonization of other worlds you referred to it as a year. For reference, you are estimated to be 22 Sols old.”
“Then yeah, that makes a lot of sense. We didn’t really have permanent settlements and had to keep moving. One of the older stories said that we came to our world in a fiery ship and that the remains of it could be found out in the wastes once a cycle. That’s what we call it when the Thaw comes back to the same point.”
“I have heard some of the other colonists mention this Thaw. This is the name for the habitable zone in which your colony exists, correct?”
“Yeah, you live in the Thaw, you move with the Thaw. The Thaw keeps you from burning or freezing as long as you work with it. It protects you, feeds you and keeps you alive, but it always moves so you need to move with it.”
The Turic frantically scribbles notes on its data pad.
“Fascinating. It appears as though your civilization has come to mythologize a natural phenomenon the way your ancestors on earth frequently would. Your colony was founded on a planet that was almost what we would call tidally locked. In essence one side of it always faced your neighboring star and it rotated as it spun around it so that the same side always faced it at all times. However the spin was off by a small fraction so that the planet gradually rotated to have a day/night cycle, but this cycle was so slow that it took roughly 50 Sols for a single rotation. This would have made for a narrow band of surviveable temperatures but one that was constantly shifting albeit at a slow pace.”
Kiara stared blankly at the Turic.
“Sorry, that went a little over my head. What I think I caught from that though is that one side of my world faced the light and one side faced the dark and we lived in the space between. Which yeah, that’s the Thaw.”
“I apologize, this is fascinating for me, I’m just curious as to how or why your people took what appears to be such a large step backwards in their technological capabilities.”
“Well, like I said, some of our stories say that we came from a fiery ship and that it can be found in the wastes. If my people really did come from another world, maybe we crashed and our technology broke. We do tend to keep on the move and we usually leave things behind when they break and can’t be fixed. I wasn’t old enough to remember seeing the great ship when my parents took me there and it was taken by the scorch a long time ago.”
The Turic stared at his data pad wondering how he would even begin to unravel all of this.
“Well, hopefully we can find some solid answers to this mystery someday, but I would like for you to tell me more about your colony. What is life like on your world?”
Kiara straightened up in her seat and smiled.
“My name is Kiara Williams. I’m a frost melt like my mother and father before me. We work on the very edge of the Thaw to make sure that the glaciers, mountains and streams run in the right ways when it comes time for the Thaw to reach them in full. We scout lands in the cold to find new sites for villages. We dig breaks in the ice to make sure that the largest sheets fall away from farms and villages. It’s bitter cold and dangerous work but it’s important and sometimes exciting.”
The Turic stared in an expression that would have been the human equivalent of slack-jawed.
“You colony had the technological equivalence of pre-industrialization. Are you saying that your people geoformed an ice world to ensure proper farmland using little more than steel tools and furs?”
“Well there are plenty of other jobs too. My brother is a farmer out in the warmer parts of the Thaw and I have a cousin who lives on the other end of it as a waste reclaimer.”
“And what is it that your cousin does?”
“He goes out into the scorch looking for broken things that can be fixed or things that were left behind by accident. Most people say that’s not a job for an honest person, but he has a real knack for finding stuff to sell. I heard he even managed to find a few relics off the great ship.”
The Turic made a note to track down this cousin immediately.
“Are those the only professions available?”
“Of course not. There’s bakers and builders and law makers but we do have to keep moving with the Thaw so most of us try not to stay in one place too long. It doesn’t help to get too attached. We can usually only get 3 or 4 harvests out of a plot of land before it gets too hot to grow. That’s why frost melts like me are so important to help scout the farms in advance.”
The Turic glanced at the blinking light on his recorder that was letting him know that his allotted time was nearly up.
“I’ll need to let you get back to your family unit soon, but is there anything else you can tell me about your colony or its culture?”
Kiara sighed. “Not really. Being a frost melt, I spend most of my days surrounded by ice as far as the eye can see. It’s strange and beautiful though. There’s massive mountains made of nothing but ice and I know that if I simply walk for a few hours towards out into the frost it would be cold enough to kill, but I know that I’m the one who gets to tame it. At times when the wind is calm I can breath the cold in deep and look out to the stars and wonder what it would be like to explore them too.”
Kiara looked down at her feet self consciously and laughed.
“I guess I can actually get to do that now huh?”
The Turic adopted the human expression of a smile.
“There is a lot of unexplored space out there. I’m sure the human race would be proud to have you back to help them seek it out.”
Dean woke up around 5am on Monday morning. It had been three months since you, his 18 year old sister, had decided to take your own life. Him and Sam never got a note, you were just gone and that was all they knew. They were too late to save you and that bothered him. Every morning since that day he woke up at 5am. He realised there was no going back to sleep so he climbed out of bed and headed to the door. When he opened the door he was surprised to be greeted with a small box in front of his feet. Dean looked left and right and noticed Sam wasn’t around to have just placed the box there. He sighed, picked it up, shut his door and walked back to his bed.
As he opened up the box he was confused as he noticed that all was inside were tapes. Why would someone give him a box of tapes? Dean rummaged through the box on his shelf and found his old tape player that John had given him when he was a kid and wanted to listen to AC/DC. He put the first mysterious tape inside the player and pressed play.
“Hello,” the familiar voice that he hadn’t heard for three months spoke which almost hurt his ears to know that he could hear in tape form. He must have been mistaken… It couldn’t be!
“My name is Y/N Winchester,” your tape continued. “I’m about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life ended… And if you’re listening to this tape,” The tape paused for a moment and Dean waited in suspense. “You’re one of the reasons why.”
He pulled the headphones off his head and sat there for a moment. He couldn’t believe the voice or words he was hearing. How could this be real? How could he really be hearing it? Having to listen to the voice of his deceased sister was hard for him, but the only way to find out more was listening to the tapes… So he continued. It wasn’t a fast decision, he took a breath and thought about just throwing them away. But then he would never know the reason why. This was like your suicide note, only in the form of 13 tapes.
His shaky hands picked up the headphones and placed them carefully on his head. He pressed play on the tape player and continued to listen. “As there are to every story, there are 13 different sides to this. I’m going to tell you all of them. Each tape is based on one of the people that are the reason my life ended. So, once you’ve listened to all the tapes you need to pass these on to the next person. If you don’t, well, just know that someone is always watching every single one of you and will make sure that all the tapes are listened to by every person. Now that you understand.. Let me begin with my first tape.”
Dean closed his eyes and followed the story you were telling. “First up, we have the thing that started it all… It was a normal day for you maybe, but not me at all. I didn’t know about hunting or any of that, not until you told me. I went to find you after mom had said she saw you earlier that day, I thought maybe it would be a chance for me to meet my father for the first time. Incase you hadn’t figured it out by now, we have our first person of the story. Welcome to your tape, John.”
Dean realised that John could have been the one these tapes outside of Dean’s room. He almost forgot that both of his parents now lived in the bunker with him and Sam. John must have listened to the tapes before him. Or maybe it was Mary? Since you died they both acted weirdly around both the boys, but then again, Mary acted strangely around you anyway so maybe she had something to do with all of this. He didn’t have time to think as the tape continued to play and tell Dean the story of what happened to you.
* * *
You were a nervous wreck ever since you joined your father and his two sons. Your mom insisted on you moving in with John so that you could bond and get to know your father after all those years of wishing you knew him. You knew it wouldn’t be easy meeting him when the day came, but you never expected it to be that hard.
He told you all about hunting and all his excuses of why he left you and your mother. They were stupid and you hated listening to him explaining, you needed someone to take your anger out on and that person was John. You needed to scream and shout at him every now and then for small things just so you could release some of the pain that he made you feel for most of your life.
But that shit didn’t fly with John, you either did as he said or you were gone. “It’s my way or the highway,” you recalled him saying to you a few times after your arguments. Sam and Dean didn’t live with John really, it was more like John lived with them, along with Mary Winchester. They owned this thing called the Men Of Letters Bunker. The place was huge, so many bedrooms you couldn’t count, you could have sworn you found a new room there everyday.
Before John moved in here, him and his wife (who was also the two boy’s mother) had come back to life after so many years. They didn’t fit into the word exactly so they relied on hunting as what kept them grounded. Sam, Dean, John, Mary and you. That’s how it was. Of course, being the youngest meant that you had to follow everyone’s rules and it was for your own ‘safety.’
* * *
“For my own safety? That was complete bullshit,” you spoke smoothly through Dean’s headphones. “You just wanted someone to boss around, dad. You couldn’t control Sam and Dean anymore, so you made sure that you could completely control me. Before that I didn’t have anyone controlling me, I could do what I wanted and act however I thought was right for me. You took that from me… That’s where it all started going down hill, it’s where I started to break.”
Dean once again paused the tape. He checked his nightstand and saw that it was now 6am. How had time moved so quickly? How long had it taken him to listen to this short part of the tape? He knew he had taken it out at the beginning because it was too hard to listen to, but he never knew he was stalling for so long.
A break from this right now seemed appropriate. So, he took the headset off, left it on his bed and headed to the kitchen to get something to eat. Every step he took felt heavier than the last. This wasn’t something new, it had been happening ever since you took your life, but now it was hitting him harder. It made every movement more painful than they had been before; he didn’t even know that was possible until now.
Once he reached the kitchen, he was pleasantly surprised to see that Mary, John and Sam were already there and eating breakfast. Sam was still at the stove, finishing up cooking some eggs and the rest of the bacon while John and Mary sat opposite each other and ate what they already had. “Dean,” John said by surprise. “You’re up later than usual.”
“It’s 6am,” Dean replied with a gravelly voice that he always had when he was tired. Lately, it seemed to be the only voice he had.
“You’re usually up at around 5,” John noted. Sam came and sat down next to Mary at the table and placed a plate down for himself and for Dean.
“You hungry?” Sam asked and Dean joined them at the table. “How you holding up?”
“I feel… Different to what I have for the last few months,” Dean replied to his little brother. “You know, I actually woke up at 5am again today. I stayed in my room because I found something left outside my door.”
All of their eyes widened as Dean spoke. They looked at each other before John spoke. “So she finally finished listening to them.”
“What? Who?” Dean questioned as he squeezed his fork tightly in his hand.
“We can’t talk about this,” Mary recalled before picking up a piece of bacon from her plate and eating it.
“You can’t do that to me! Who are you talking about?!” Dean demanded as he threw his fork down.
“The last person that had the tapes,” John told him which earned a glance from Mary and Sam.
“The tapes… You’ve all listened to them?” Dean looked around at them all. They were faces of the people he knew, they were his family. But they all felt so unfamiliar, like strangers with secrets.
“We can’t talk about it, you need to listen to the tapes,” Sam finished before taking his plate over to the trash can and throwing his food away.
“Are any of you on there? Who is the ‘she’ that you’re talking about? Is it someone else on the tapes?” Dean asked quickly, not giving them time to answer any of them as he continued. “Are you all on the tapes?”
“Dean, we can’t,” Mary snapped. “You have to just listen to the tapes, everyone on there had to.”
He stood up and made his way to the exit of the kitchen but stopped in his tracks.
“It’s hard to listen to,” Dean admitted with a sad voice. He stood in the door way as he spoke to them. “It’s the voice of my dead sister.”
“Dean!” John hissed. He looked at his son standing in there, he looked so heartbroken and vulnerable. “Please son, just listen to the tapes.”
Dean glared at them all. If looks could kill, they would all be dead in a second. He stormed off and went back to his room, it turned out he didn’t get any food or a drink to soothe his feelings of anxiety right now. He returned in the same state he was in before. Dean placed the headset back on his ears and continued to listen to John’s tape.
“But that wasn’t all, was it dad?” You questioned rhetorically. “No, you did more than just boss me around. When you realised you couldn’t do it anymore, you did the only thing that you thought you could do to end the lack of control…”
* * *
It was a few months after you had moved into the bunker and began your training to become a hunter. It wasn’t the physical side of it all because you already knew how to fight after your countless years of being bullied at school. That’s why the boys and your dad were so okay with you going hunting with them; they knew you could take care of yourself.
It was the research of it all. You weren’t used to connecting the dots with how certain monsters acted or what they did with how the victims had died. You gradually became better at it, but you weren’t as good as your brothers because they grew up doing it. You knew that. You understood that.
John didn’t seem to though. All he did was compared you to Sam and Dean and demanded that you become a smarter person. That wasn’t something you could just do, you can’t just snap your fingers one day and get what you want. You have to work for shit like that, it takes time and patience… But those were two things that John lacked.
It was that one day in the motel you were all staying in. The report in the paper said that the bystanders smelled sulphur after the woman was attacked. That was easy enough to figure out, right? Wrong. You weren’t trained enough in the mythology of monsters and you had no idea that sulphur was a sign of demons. You read past it and said there was nothing in there that could have been your kind of thing.
John insisted that you had missed something, just like he always did. You hated when you had to look for cases in the paper. Either you would misjudge it and say you had found a case or you would read past it too quickly and not realise that there was your kind of thing going on. No. You never got it right, so John always checked.
He held the paper in his hand as he sat opposite you at the small table in the motel. You watched nervously as his eyes scanned over the front page and read about the current murder spree going around. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned as he slammed the paper down on the table. “You’re kidding me right, Y/N? You don’t see a case here?”
“Uh, no, sir,” you replied shakily. Sam and Dean noticed your worry from where they were sitting on the beds. Mary was currently out on a supply run.
“It says here the by passers could smell sulphur,” John stated as he looked over at his sons.
“So what are we thinking, a demon?” Dean asked while he continued to clean his gun.
John clicked his tongue and Dean’s answer as if it was obvious. “Exactly… A demon.”
“A demon?” You questioned as you looked between all of them.
“The smell of sulphur is an instant alert for a demon,” Sam told you with a smile. He didn’t mind teaching you, he actually enjoyed it. He liked passing on his knowledge with you and helping you become a better hunter. He had patience… John didn’t.
“Yeah,” John snapped. “Every hunter should know that.”
You hated when he got like this because you instantly knew it was a dig at you and you were tired of it. The boys saw nothing of it because they didn’t pay enough attention. That’s why they thought you were in the wrong when you snapped back.
“Well, I’m still new at this so you can’t expect me to know everything,” you hissed which got John’s back up. You were glad it pissed him off, it was time that he took you seriously.
“You do not speak to your father like that!” He shouted as he stood from his chair and pushed it back aggressively.
You stood up too so you could regain dominance in the conversation. “What kind of father are you? I barely even know you!”
“This isn’t about me,” he replied with a steady tone.
“Yes it is!” You screamed. “This is about you… This is about what you didn’t do. You weren’t there because you were too busy hunting with your other family. And yes, I know that you died when I was a kid, but even when you came back to life you didn’t bother looking for me.”
“I thought we were past this,” he growled with flared nostrils.
“We are. We are past this,” you lied. You weren’t over it, but you had to pretend you were for the sake of everyone else. “I’m not reminding you about it because I’m hurt, I’m reminding you because you need to understand my point of view. I’m not good at researching cases with you because I was never here for it. And you’re not good at being a father to me because you were never there.”
When you finished your statement it was as if the world stopped for a minute. You came to terms with what you had said and realised that you meant it; John wasn’t as accepting towards the statement as you were. The boys both gasped as they saw John’s hand being drawn back.
Before you could react to his movement, John’s hand made harsh contact with your cheek. It was enough force that if pushed you to the floor. You breathed heavily as you stood up; you were holding your hand against your cheek in disbelief.
“You asshole!” You growled as your stood on your feet. “You fucking asshole!”
“What the hell is going on?” Mary demanded as she walked through the door. “Y/N? What happened to your face?”
“It was dad! He slapped me!” You screamed. “You’re a dick, how could you?!”
“Dad, you crossed the line,” Sam said. “You don’t hit your kids.”
“Things just got out of hand,” Dean insisted. “They should never have gone this far, you need to talk about this and sort it out because this shit has been going on for too long. All you do is argue with each other over the smallest things.”
“Dean! He hit her!” Sam defended as he stood up in annoyance.
“We’ve all hit each other! Hell, we’ve tried to kill each other before,” Dean recalled. You couldn’t believe Dean would actually try and defend his father, you thought he had changed.
“Why are you defending him?!” You fumed.
“I’m not,” Dean said calmly. He put his arms up in defence as he continued to talk. “All I’m saying is we have all done terrible things to each other, our family is messed up. This is something that’s needs to be dealt with and then we move on.”
You scoffed at his words. John looked down at you the same way he always did, his eyes full of hatred and boiling with anger. “There’s nothing to talk about. I want you gone, Y/N.”
“No!” John spat. “I want you gone, get the fuck out of here. Go back to living with your mom, the hunting life isn’t for everyone and you’re most definitely not meant to be a hunter.”
You couldn’t believe the words that were leaving his mouth. You looked at your brothers and saw that even they didn’t know what to say. You grabbed your things, threw them into a backpack and walked out like you weren’t even bothered. But of course you were. You were so desperate for one of them to follow you and beg you to come back… But no one ever did.
* * *
“You hit me in the face. It hurt. But not as much as it hurt when you hit me with rejection and hatred. You wanted me gone… I hated you, John, more than I had ever hated anyone. You felt the same way about me and I wasn’t going to stick around for that so I headed back to my moms.”
Dean once again removed the headphones and paused the tape. There wasn’t long left of this tape but it was so hard for him to listen to. He checked his clock on his nightstand once again and saw that it was now 1:35pm. Food. He needed food.
Another walk to the kitchen with pain in his steps led to a nervous feeling in his stomach. What John had done to you was so bad, what if Dean’s was worse? What if he had hurt you but had no idea that it had affected you so badly? Dean was pulled out of his thoughts when he saw his father sitting alone at the kitchen table and drinking a beer.
“Hey, son,” he said with a soft voice. “You doing ok?”
“I’m great,” Dean snapped. “I won’t talk to you and piss you off though, I don’t wanna get a beating.”
John sighed and rubbed his palm over his face. “You listened to my tape.”
“I haven’t finished it yet,” Dean shook his head. “It’s still hard to listen to.”
John didn’t reply to what Dean said, he just took another swig of his beer and stared at the wall. Dean went to the fridge and pulled out some left over bacon that was cooked that morning. He put the plate in front of him and his father at the table as he came and sat opposite him. “Stop staring at the wall and look at me,” Dean demanded. John looked at the disappointment in his sons eyes. “Feeling sorry for yourself won’t bring her back.”
Now he saw something in John that he had never let him see before. It was weakness. “I remember that day,” Dean continued. “I remember that I defended you when you hurt her because I was scared that what you did would make her leave. I was selfish and I wanted her to stay so I tried to justify what happened.”
“I’m not finished,” Dean snapped. “What you did drove her away from our family… The only reason she came back was because she had nowhere else to go after she went home and found her moms dead body. If you didn’t send her away she would never had seen that.”
“You don’t think I know that!” John shouted which caught Dean by surprise. He sighed as he realised his anger had once again got the better of him. “Dean-” his voice was steady and low, “-the reason I did that to her was to protect her.”
“You hit her to protect her?” Dean demanded.
“I pushed her away to protect her,” John said as tears began to form in his eyes. “Before I slapped her I kept snapping at her and being nasty to her because I wanted her to leave so she could be safe. I knew that if I told her that she wouldn’t leave, and no matter how many times I shouted at her or was a complete dick to her she would just get upset… But she would stay. I had to do something that would finally make her leave; I had to make her think that I hated her so that she would hate me. If she stayed with us she would have continued to hunt and I wanted better for her.”
John wiped his tears away before drinking more of his beer. It was as if he thought the alcohol would soothe the sting, but it only made it worse. “I loved my baby,” he cried. “She was my only daughter and she made me proud every day. I’ll never get a chance to tell her that.”
Dean shook his head. He understood why John did what he did and he sympathised with him, but it didn’t matter. That wouldn’t bring you back. It wouldn’t fix anything. “She’s dead because you were too scared to love her.”
Dean didn’t plan on saying it, it was just a thought that popped into his head but he needed to get it out. Secrets were one of the reasons you ended your life, he didn’t want to keep them anymore.
John had no idea how to respond to Dean. How could someone reply to that? He was one of the causes of his daughters death because he was a coward. Dean didn’t even know what to think anymore. He needed to know more. He had one more bite of the bacon before he put the plate back in the fridge and headed back to his room.
They were still there when he got back. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he was hoping that the tapes weren’t real and that you were still there in the bunker. When you moved in you told him that you wanted your room next to his so you could knock on the wall if you wanted to talk to each other.
He picked the tape player up, it felt colder than when he last held it. A chill shot down his spine as he thought about the tapes again and how they were all you left behind. Your voice played again in his ears.
“After you kicked me out, dad, I went back for my mom. I ran in to my house, crying my eyes out because of what you did. I wanted comfort from my mom,” you explained. “She was all I needed right at that moment because in my whole life she was all I ever had. But I never got to speak to her… I went into her room and found her covered in blood. She didn’t move… Or breathe… She did nothing.”
Your voice broke as you spoke about your mothers death and Dean closed his eyes at the thought. “And this, ladies and gentlemen, brings me to my second tape. And you know who you are when I say that on my next tape, we’re going to talk about the person that murdered my mother.”