Wrathofnaught
(?)Community Member
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- Posted: Sat, 19 Jan 2013 03:23:36 +0000
Brent Spellings
Albert had just emerged from a building that looked like it had seen better days. He pulled out his pistol from his coat pocket, and looked left and right just in case some undead were around. Nothing was insight, and he continued straight ahead. The street he was on was just as bad as the building. Trash, abandoned vehicles, wrecked vehicles, and even dead people were about. It was a pretty gruesome sight for someone who wasn't exactly used to seeing this kind of thing everyday, but of course Brent had seen more than he had wanted to in his life. He hated the head of umbrella, and he hated Wesker. Most of all though he hated himself. He meet the man himself and didn't even attempt to kill him. This was before he knew that Wesker, and his corps were a bunch of corrupt, and new world order type of people. Still he couldn't shake the feeling that he could have done more. Even if he had informed Raccoon of their impending demise it would have been more than he did which was nothing. Why? He lived his life in fear of people. Now he fears more than just people.