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Summary: Who is Alice Prospero?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Games > Horror > Resident Evil(Current Donor)stemplarFR1823,765031,8164 Aug 086 Aug 08No



I don’t own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Resident Evil – these are both copyright to their respective owners. This crossover is a partial response to challenge 3014 on TTH (it’s set a bit before, so I’ve not linked it to the challenge yet).

Forward warning that as with Resident Evil there will be quite a lot of violence. I’ve tried to include enough detail from the film to allow a casual reader not familiar with it to understand what’s going on.


Icy smoke poured from the open medical refrigerator. Grey gloved hands quickly and accurately removed a rack of vials containing two helical spirals that interlocked. They contained a transparent blue liquid.

The rack of vials is placed on a sterile steel worktop before the top opening is once again closed on the refrigerator.

It’s a big lab, and there are another two scientists working in it. They both are wearing masks, and are focusing their attentions on a plastic tank containing a white rabbit.

The man who removed the vials from the fridge opens a silver carry case, padded on the inside with foam, and with cutouts for the vials of liquid. The other lab techs don’t comment or seem to even notice him being there.


Everyone is working frenetically. The atmosphere is one of calm efficiency and effort. The office, like the rest of the facility, looks modern. It’s open plan, with desks spaced out without many dividers.

At one such desk is a pretty blonde woman. A few photographs adorn her desk, and a paper weight that reads “Love is… never having to say you’re sorry”. There’s a stack of papers in front of her, and she is obviously busy.

She picked up the phone and started to dial a number, after a moment she received an answer and started to talk, “Hi.”


The rack of vials is now nearly empty. In his haste, the last vial the man held slipped from his gloved hand, and knocked on the edge of the surface before falling to the ground.

The glass vial broke, and the blue liquid spilled out onto the light grey vinyl covering the floor.

The man looked sharply around at the other techs – they’ve not noticed the accident yet. He snaps the case shut, slides it behind one of the cupboards, and quickly exits the room.


The pretty blonde from before is still on the telephone.

“I went to where we talked about, but there was nothing... no... no there wasn’t... there wasn’t anything,” she looked around nervously, “I’m worried.”

In response to whoever she was talking to replied, “That’s easy for you to say – I’m the one who’s here!”

Her conversation was cut off by the ringing of bells. It’s the fire alarm.

The woman looked up and around sharply. Her co-workers had all started to put on their jackets and get up to leave the building.

“I’ve got to go. Yeah! Fire drill!” she said replacing the receiver, and putting her jacket on and filing in behind the rest of her workers.


The two remaining tech’s had by now removed their masks, and had returned to the top to the rabbit’s container. The fire alarm bell still ringing. A second later the sprinkler system kicked in, sending a fine shower of water over the room.

“Shit!” One of the techs said.

“What happened to the halon system?” The other lab tech asked, squinting up at the sprinkler dampening the room.

“Who cares! Get this lot covered up,” the first tech replied, indicating the experiment notes that were already starting to run.


All the workers, including the blonde from before, had reached a glass double door. It was locked and they couldn’t get out. Another woman, taller, and with light blonde hair stood near them.

After a moment a man had come through the crowd of workers. He looked like he worked out a lot. The woman with light blonde hair cast him an appraising glance.

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“The doors won’t open!” The peroxide blonde replied, fluttering her eyelashes and flirting with him.

He tried to pry the doors open. There is no point – they do not open. He tries again, the effort of his exertion showing on his face.

“How about the emergency doors, at the back?” The woman who had been using the telephone earlier asked.

“Locked also,” Another worker, wearing a white shirt and maroon tie answered.


The tech threw the stool at the glass panel in the door once again. And, once again, it bounced off.

“It’s no use,” he said, a note of despair in his voice.

“If we don’t get out of here...” the other tech said in warning.

“They should have cut off by now,” the first tech said again, looking up at the sprinklers.

By now both of the technicians were ankle deep in water, and it didn’t seem to show any signs of stopping coming from the sprinklers.


It was impossible to tell what was being said from outside the office. The air-tight glass security doors prevented air or sound from entering or leaving the office.

From the gas being released from the ceiling, it was apparent that the air in the room was being exchanged by the halon system to remove the oxygen from the air and put the fire out.

The only problem was that removing the oxygen from the air made it impossible for the people in the office to breath. A few clawed at the glass doors. Others tried to conserve the air they had. One or two clutched at their throats, their lungs burning as they no longer had any oxygen to breath.

One by one they all fell to the ground. The young woman who was speaking on the phone still has a hand rested against the door.


The main entrance to the high-tech facility was a large steel door that was recessed into what looked like a natural cave.

With a whir of motors, the door started to edge its way closed. The facility, and those people who were in it, was being sealed off from the outside world.

With a clang the door finally closes.


Green eyes open, sharp and alert. With a jerk, she’s sitting up in bed. Short dirty blonde hair splayed out behind her back.

With another quick glance she takes in the room. A four poster bed, oak paneled walls, and a painting of someone who looked like a president a hundred years ago. The low window opens onto neatly tended grounds.

A sharp twist of her body, and movement with her arm, has her standing and the sheets moved aside. She’s naked. Something has fallen from the bed. With a fluid movement she swipes it from the ground, and examining it reads:


With a shake of her head the blonde haired girl walked over to the mirror attached to a three draw antique looking dresser. Looking at herself it is like she doesn’t know who she is.

She stares back into the sparkling green eyes in the mirror, and lets her attention wander down her body. She notices that she looks like she must work out. Her appearance looks like that of someone in the early twenties.

Seeming to come to a decision, the girl opens the first draw. It contains tops and a couple of skirts. The second draw has black underwear. The third has a couple of Uzi sub-machine guns. She stares at the weaponry. A pair of black leather boots are next to the dresser.

This is all strange to her: none of it familiar.

She puts on the underwear and pulls on a black skirt that’s too short for her modesty and black top. There is no temptation to pick up one of the guns – it somehow seems... off.


She enters the main lounge. The black top and skirt fit her like they are her own, but she has no memory of them. Walking over to the mantel piece she runs her fingers over the face of an old looking carriage clock. Her eyes flick over it and the other nik-naks surrounding it. She feels that this should feel familiar.

There is something about this house that makes her think. It feels wrong, somehow - fake.


At the centre of the room is a large dark oak dining table. Large enough for a person to sit at either end, and three to comfortably sit between on one side.

The darkly clad blonde walked around it looking at the eight places that had been set. Weird, since there are no guests.

Looking around the room she can see some photographs on the mantle in this room. On closer inspection they are of her and another man. They seem to be together.

Glancing down at her own hand she can see a simple gold wedding band on her own hand. Funny, she doesn’t remember getting married.

A shadow flitting across the window startles her. She spins to face the threat.

“Hello?” she says. Her voice dry and she swallows. There is no reply to her call.


From the entrance of the house the girl emerges. She eyes cautiously the classic figurines that adorned the formal gardens.

For a moment she allows herself to look around the garden, until an almost imperceptible movement in a hedge at one side catches her attention and she starts to walk over.


Dusk has started to settle over the gardens. The high hedges of the maze create ever lengthening shadows.

The maze is not familiar to the young woman, but she seems to be finding her way nevertheless.

With a tentative look up at the sky, she goes to turn around, only to see a fleck of white that might be someone. With a burst of speed she runs to it.

“Hello?” she said without getting a response. He is sitting with his back to her.

“I’m not sure if I belong here... I woke up, and I can’t remember.” She informs him from behind.

Reaching out she touches his shoulder. “Hey! Are you alright?”

She draws her hand back quickly, he is cold to the touch. Quickly moving in front of him, she can see her mistake, and rolls her eyes. It’s just a statue that is sat on a marble bench.

She approaches it and touches the statue again, almost smiling at her silly mistake.

“Freeze, don’t move!” A male voice said from behind.
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