Well I've been posting sporadically, waiting to get as many views as possible, but apparently I'm mostly writing because I still feel like it even if no one reads what I write. Oh well. Enjoy Day 3 ResidentEman!

I wake up with a start, grabbing my pistol next to me and sweep the room. I think a sound woke me up, but once I breathe, I realize what it really was. "OH JESUS!" I actually wretch the stench is so bad. That little stinker left me a final **** you! The smell is absolutely atrocious and I can't stand it. I look through the cracks in the boards covering the windows and see that it is daylight anyway, another excuse to leave. As soon as I pack up my gear, I pull away all the furniture covering the smashed boards and jump out. Looking quickly at my GPS to see where I marked the location of my bike, I ready my MP7 and start methodically moving through the shanties.

I go a couple of streets down, still about six streets from the exit and about a hundred and fifty yards from there to my bike, without incident. However, as soon as I turn to scan an alley to my left, I freeze in place. Six men are pushing a cage in the direction I just came from down a side street. Inside the cage is a huge, lanky, and thin man with a burlap sack completely coveringhis head tied on,grabbing the bars and shaking them violently. He must be seven feet tall and he's going absolutely nuts inside this cage. I try to slowly sidestep to cross the intersection and hope they don't notice, but suddenly one of them looks my way and yells something. Needless to say, I start running.

Well, it seems as if interest in my fanfic is waning, but I don't care. If you read this, comment, I don't care how short, but I'm trying to see how many people will read each part before I post another part. Anyway, here's the next part, enjoy!

Okay you ugly little monkey,I'll **** with you! I do not want to let this thing make me it's next victim, so I only have one question, how do I kill it? Well, I might as well go for broke, so I unsling my G3, set it to fully auto and let fly. The creature cries out upon being hit the first couple times, and then jumps to its left and clings to the wall, much like a licker. I track it all the way and keep spraying fire at it, missing most shots during the jump but finally pounding it with six rounds while it clings to the wall. It flies back as the rounds pierce through it's hardened exterior and its tentacles frantically swing around just as my G3 clicks empty. The hunter/licker/chimera whatever it was lets out a final screech and dies.

I let out a sigh of relief as it disintegrates and I know that the ammo wasn't wasted. Quickly reloading, I know that this station is empty, not surprisingly since that thing smelled like ****. Whatever, It's pretty close to sunset and I don't want to travel by night. So, I go downstairs and push several cabinets against the hole in the plywood I made to get in. Knowing I'll be safe for now, I remove my vest and set up my weapons near me, fully loaded. I'll miss my broadcast to Gary, but I don't particularly care. It's miss the transmission, or travel by night in unfamiliar and hostile territory. **** that. I sit back, and close my eyes. I know I won't sleep, but a man can hope right?

Just a warning, do not be angry about the creature of my own creation I put into here! I am almost getting tired of sticking to the bounds of a game and I want to make this fanfic different!

I check around me quickly in the silence, gun at the ready, my breath coming and going quickly, the only sound in the dead room.It's quiet, too quiet. I shake the clicheout of my head. There are two tables, one with a smashed radio on it, and the other covered in scattered papers, a messy medkit,and blood. When I approach, my heart almost stops. The blood is still wet, not more than a couple days old,plastering the reddened papers to the wood. The ink was smeared on the papers and I figured I wouldn't be sticking my nose into those private contents. I also see some stairs with two wooden crates beneath them. I wondered what was in the crates, maybe something useful, and I consider busting them open to find out. Oh screw that!I leave the crates where they lie not wanting to waste time.

I bring my pistol to bear, lining up the elevated, painted sights and proceeding slowly, checking where I plant my feet. A couple more ginger steps and I turn into the upstairs. The room is barren save for some empty gun racks and ammunition shelves. Not like I need those supplies badly considering the freaking armory my wood house has. On the other side of the room I spot the source of all the blood downstairs. A black man with a huge gash in his arm, withgauzewrapped around it and a ragas a turniquette. It must not have worked. Upon checking his pulse, I know he's dead. He is wearing Rhodesian camouflage and a tan shirt with the BSAA logo emblazened on it. Checking his dogtags, I see his name was Idi Mumba. The "Africa" tag under Country of Origin confirms he was from around here. I shake my head, wondering how the hell it keeps happening, these biohazards. I could only hope the bastards responsible would pay.

I now turn my attention to the padlocked door just next to him. With a key I find next to him, I slowly unlock and remove the steel padlock. With my Mk23 raised, I kick in the door, and am immediately greeted by a horrible stench like someone combined garlic with ketchup, mustard, and s**t. It literally burns my eyes, but I keep them open and almost wish I hadn't. In the middle of the barren room is some greenish brownmonstrosity. It almost looks like a hunter, but it has tentacles like an insect and a pulsing growth on its shoulder. My first thought is of that line from Predator: You are oneUGLY mother****er! It lets out a horrible screech and projectile vomits more of the foul smelling fluid my way. I narrowly avoid being splashed with it by dodging out of the room quickly. The insect hunter isn't too far behind though.

Well, I've been laying off this hoping for more people to read the last part, but whatever. Oh, and I am currently playing RE5, but don't expect to see too much from the game in here. But I love the game!

Two men, standing in front of several sheets of metal meshed together like the scales of a fish. They appear to just be staring off into space, and at maximum zoom, I can see that they have the red eyes of someone whose soul left long ago. If my emotions still existed after all of these years of killing, I would feel sorry for the people here, but I can't. Not now. I hold my breath and squeeze off one shot. The 7.62mm round shatters its way through even the reinforced skull and shreds the infected man's brain matter. His stunned friend receives the same treatment. Not bad shooting from two hundred feet with a suppressed weapon.

I stand and run to the sheetmetal with the space between it that passes as an entryway. I switch to my Mk23 and pass through, sweeping the small intersection of alleyways, seeing it to be clear. I look at my GPS and see that there is a small BSAA station marked on my map and head towards it by the path to my left. As I come to another intersection, a woman unexpectedly rounds the corner. I stop, lowering my weapon, about to speak, when she turns. The blood on her face and her snarl upon seeing me tell me she won't give me her phone number. I raise my weapon again, cursing myself for letting my guard down and squeeze off a double tap. As her death rattle escapes her lips, I hear more cries from around the corner. I bet her boyfriend was pissed. I run past the intersection and six men follow hot on my trail from the paths on my left and right.

Sprinting the whole way, I occasionally turn around to squeeze off a shot in their direction, hoping to at least slow them down. Finally, I see the BSAA station ahead of me, asquat,white,concrete edifice,boarded up against intruders. Well, I'm not about to take that **** I aim and squeeze off six shots, the remainder of my magazine into the sheet of plywood blocking the window directly in front of me. The holes are well spaced, allowing the plywood to soften enough for me to plow through it into the station. I roll and turn around to cover the window, reloading as I turn. Strangely, the people have left me. But if anything, the quiet only makes my adrenaline pump harder.

I went back inside and decided to radio Gary on the frequency he had given me. I was ordered to check in every morning so they knew whether or not I was still alive. So, I sat down and entered the frequency. After hitting the call button, I heard ringing sounds like a phone on the line, and figured Gary must have this frequency synced to his phone. Then I heard Gary's voice. "Hey, how you holding up?"

I told him about my run in with two of the infected and he said, "Well, that's odd. I suppose they must have been on patrol and seen your parachute coming down. I wouldn't worry about any more though. So, you going to hit the first town today?"

I answered an affirmative and he gave me a long winded reminder that I was to look for survivors and learn as much about the infection as possible and report it to him tomorrow morning. The other days were the same drill as well. There were about seven different areas to visit, and I should hit one at least every couple of days. I would also record all of my findings in a journal that I told him I had actually found when I sat on it to call him. Then we said our goodbyes and broke the connection.

A few minutes later and I have my gear on and I'm heading toward the first town...