Resident Evil Legends Part One: Welcome to the Umbrella Corporation

By Andreas Leachim

Based on the Resident Evil video game series by Capcom. Albert Wesker and William Birkin are the two youngest employees ever recruited by the Umbrella Corporation. Both of them are brilliant young scientists, destined for great careers in the cutting edge of biological science. At the Umbrella Training Facility, under the tutelage of the mysterious James Marcus and the ruthless Ozwell Spencer, they excel at their research and are rapidly promoted. But they are not prepared for the shocking truth about the Umbrella Corporation. All of Umbrella's advanced biological research is founded upon a lethal virus known as the Progenitor, a terrifying disease that kills its host and then resurrects it as the living dead. As Wesker and Birkin accept the frightening truth and focus on their own scientific goals, their teacher, James Marcus, gradually descends into madness over his latest project, putting all of Umbrella at risk. Now, it is up to Wesker and Birkin to deal with Marcus and the even more-terrifying virus he has created, known as the T-virus ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andreas Leachim
• Release date: Nov 7, 2015

Andreas Leachim

Andreas Leachim is seven feet tall and has six fingers on each hand. He speaks 22 languages. He won the Academy Award for Best Picture, the Nobel Prize in Chemistry, and the Cy Young Award all in the same year. He once climbed Mount Everest while juggling a pair of flaming chainsaws. He is allergic to other human beings.

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Resident Evil Legends Part One: Welcome to the Umbrella Corporation

By Andreas Leachim

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 Andreas Leachim

Cover art and design by Andreas Leachim

This is a work of fan fiction based on the Resident Evil video game series. All characters and names and related trademarks are the property of Capcom. The author of this work receives no financial compensation from it and does not seek to infringe upon Capcom’s copyrights in any way.

Chapter 1

Albert Wesker opened the sliding door and stepped out of the helicopter, adjusting his mirrored sunglasses as he did so. The rush of wind from the rotors whipped his clothes around and he ducked involuntarily, even though he knew he was in no danger from the spinning blades. He stepped onto the circular cement landing pad, tucked his briefcase under his arm, and cautiously moved to the edge of the platform.

No one was there to meet him, which seemed odd. His new employer spared no expense to bring him there, hiring a helicopter when a taxi cab would have sufficed, but no welcoming committee waited to greet him when he arrived. The reception area at the end of the landing pad was empty. Beyond that, Wesker glimpsed a path that cut through a dense pack of trees toward the science lab where his training would begin.

Looking around, he took in the view of the picturesque Arklay Mountains, which gently rose up around the laboratory grounds in all directions like a huge rumpled green carpet. The lab was reasonably secluded. The closest populated area, a town amusingly named Raccoon City, was almost twenty miles away. Other than that, the lab was surrounded by nothing but forest-covered hills and mountains.

Behind him, the helicopter lifted back into the air. He wondered if it even touched ground when it dropped him off. The pilot demonstrated no desire to stay even a second longer than necessary, which Wesker also found odd. He suddenly felt like a soldier dropped deep behind enemy lines, with the helicopter anxious to get back to safety as soon as possible. He watched it disappear over the trees and wished absentmindedly that he had been given more specific instructions.

Good afternoon, someone said, startling him. An elderly gentleman stood at the edge of the reception area, hands folded in front of him. He wore a plain brown suit of a style long since out of fashion, and his thick, heavy glasses hid small, intense eyes. Wesker did not know how the man could have snuck up on him so effectively.

As if reading his mind, the man said, Sorry if I spooked you. I have a habit of doing that, I suppose. Would you like to come with me, or would you rather continue to sight-see?

Wesker reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I’ll come with you, he said unnecessarily, stepping off the landing pad. He shook a cigarette out of the pack and stuck it in his mouth, offering one to the man beside him.

The man declined politely. No, thank you. I quit many years ago. It’s an awful habit, you know.

Yes, I do, Wesker said, lighting up.

As they walked down the path, the man did not introduce himself, nor did he need to. Wesker already knew him from photographs in the Umbrella recruitment materials he received after graduating college. The man’s name was James Marcus, and he was the head researcher at the lab. It was actually only a training facility, but the research done there was very real, and Marcus was the man in charge of the entire operation.

Wesker did not expect to be there long. At the age of nineteen, he had already completed his undergraduate studies and was far along in what would normally be considered graduate work, if Wesker had bothered to apply to graduate school. He completed high school at fourteen, a verified child prodigy, and spent two wasted years at Harvard before transferring to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where he first majored in biology and chemistry. Frustrated with the limits of his education, he eventually created his own major, biochemical engineering, much to the discomfort of his academic advisers, who thought they knew what he wanted more than he did. His core studies included advanced biology, genetic research, and chemical theory. His senior thesis and research project detailed how a virus, such as the common cold, could he genetically tampered with to make it harmless to humans.

What his professors did not know, and what Umbrella did, was that Wesker’s work was not just a theory. He had already succeeded in making those genetic changes. He sent proof of his work to Umbrella in lieu of a more typical application for employment. They hired him immediately, and so here he was.

How old are you, young man? Marcus asked.

Wesker blew out a trail of smoke that disappeared in the calm breeze. Nineteen. He said it without pride, but with a hint of contempt. How many people were brought to this laboratory before they hit their twenties? He glanced sideways at Marcus and tried to guess the man’s age. Sixty, perhaps? Sixty-five? How old had he been when Umbrella first hired him?

You certainly have accomplished much in your few years, Marcus said. I hope your age doesn’t ostracize you from the rest of the trainees here. Everyone here is an equal, you understand, regardless of their prior achievements. I expect nothing less than complete cooperation between you and your fellow scientists.

And how long will I stay here? Wesker asked. How long until I qualify for my own research team and laboratory time?

As long as I say you do, Marcus replied simply. On average, it takes two or three years of work here before I feel someone is prepared for advancement.

Wesker expected such a response, but he chuckled softly at it anyway. There was no way he was working for five years as some lackey underling. He did not join Umbrella to do grunt work until he was twenty-four. If he wanted that, he would have gone to graduate school and gotten his Ph.D. the old-fashioned way.

You don’t intend to wait that long, I suspect? Marcus asked, again reading his mind.

Wesker puffed on his cigarette one last time and dropped it on the path to be crushed under his heel. Well, no disrespect intended, but I think I’m better qualified than most of the people your company accepts for employment.

Marcus nodded. I’ll grant that, but you are by no means unique. You’re not the only genius on these grounds. You may be a step above many, but there are some individuals here you will certainly find to be your intellectual superiors.

That’s possible, Wesker admitted, but only because they’re older than I am. How many nineteen-year-olds do you have working here?

None, Marcus said.

I think that speaks for itself.

Not necessarily.

They left the shady cover of the trees and finally reached the main laboratory grounds. Wesker found himself on a wide cement patio bordered on both sides by an elaborate iron fence. Potted plants and cement benches lay along each side, and wide steps at the end led up to the laboratory itself. Wesker saw pictures of it in the recruitment materials, but in person it was much more magnificent.

If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn the mansion was a historical landmark from the mid-1800s. At first glance, it reminded him of Monticello, except it was two stories tall and three times as large as Jefferson’s mansion. The outside was done in reddish-brown brick with bright white borders around the large bay windows and all along the edge of the black tile roof.

The mansion was not the only impressive building on the grounds, either. Off to his left, Wesker spotted the top of a two-story astronomical observatory peeking out above the trees. He found it funny that a science lab specializing in biology and chemistry would have an astronomical tower on site. The mansion had probably been intended as a private university building at one time, or at least Wesker assumed so. He wondered what else was built on the laboratory grounds.

Welcome to the Umbrella training facility, Marcus said.

Not bad, Wesker said to himself.

They traversed the wide patio and headed for the rear entrance. Marcus held the glass double doors open for Wesker as he walked inside. After being out in the hot August sunshine, it felt good to feel air-conditioning on his skin, but he did not take his sunglasses off.

The doors led directly into a lecture room much smaller than he had expected. It only had seats for only about thirty people. Wesker had envisioned hundreds of new employees studying and working at the training facility, with a lecture hall as large as the ones he’d seen in college, but he realized that the class of trainees here would be smaller, and therefore more competitive, than he had thought.

Each seat had a wide desk with a computer screen built in, which impressed him. The monitors currently displayed the Umbrella corporate logo, a circle divided into eighths and colored in alternating bright red and white. At the front of the room was an old-fashioned wooden lectern in front of a projector screen. Wesker liked the contrast of old and new.

This is where most of the training will take place, Marcus said, take a leisurely stroll through the room. Your first few classes will be on the rules and regulations of the Umbrella Corporation. Non-disclosure agreements, employee handbook materials, research divisions and work classifications, that sort of thing. It will take a day or two to cover it.

And then what?

And then some examinations to help isolate your skills and weaknesses. We work very hard to make sure our employees are given positions in accordance with their natural abilities. We aim to maximize everyone’s potential.

What if my potential lies in researching my own work and pursuing my own interests?

Marcus smiled thinly. Well then, I guess we’ll have to let you do that, won’t we?

Wesker couldn’t tell if the old man was patronizing him, or just being sarcastic. It was possible that he wasn’t accustomed to new students displaying such brazen confidence in their own abilities, but Wesker was not about to humble himself to gain the old man’s favor. He had faith in his intelligence and the fact that Marcus wasn’t going to let him go to one of their business competitors. Marcus had to know what a valuable employee Wesker could be, and if the price of his employment was putting up with his tremendous ego, then so be it.

Have you had dinner yet? Marcus asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Actually, I haven’t.

Let’s stop by your room so you can drop off your things, and then we’ll head to the cafeteria for something to eat.

They walked through another set of double doors to a large, open lobby. A huge golden chandelier hovered over their heads, adorned with dozens of small light bulbs disguised as candles. Red-carpeted steps led up the right and left to the upper wings of the mansion, and the tile floor beneath his feet was waxed to a glimmering shine so clear Wesker could see his reflection in it. Momentarily, he was once more overcome by the artistic beauty of the building. It was decorated like a royal palace more than a training center

Reviews for Resident Evil Legends Part One

[Meredith · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I almost didn’t give this book a chance because I thought how good could some fan fiction book really be? I’m glad I did, because this book was just as good as any of the S.D. Perry books. I’m looking forward to reading the rest of the series.