The Widow's Web 002 (Patreon)

I was probably fucking insane for delaying my escape from this hellhole -even if ‘escaping’ into the nightmare-world that was Raccoon City right now wasn’t much of an ‘escape’ at all-, but I would be damned if I didn’t take as much advantage of this situation as I could by looting everything that I could before I finally scarpered.

Not to mention extracting whatever information I could in the effort from Ada Wong, because my memory had finally recovered enough to confirm that she is who was, apparently, helping me out. And that was fucking suspicious, because she while she wasn’t necessarily an evil -at least not compared so some- person, she damn well wasn’t a hero either. Again, when compared to some. The point was, there had to be some greater purpose behind her helping me, because I wasn’t Leon Kennedy. And even with him, she’d often had ulterior motives for lending a hand or swooping to the rescue.

“Why are you helping me? What’s going on?” I asked a bit hoarsely, not even entirely sure where she was speaking to me from, save that her voice was perhaps coming from speakers in the ceiling or something similar.

The speaker crackled as Ada made a sound that I interpreted as an annoyed huff, and for a few seconds there was nothing but static and the sound of my wet, bare feet slapping on the ground as I slowly started to make my way towards the only door present. The door that would, hopefully, lead to interesting treasures of the physical or information variety.

“I’m investigating what Umbrella is doing here, and I found you.” Ada said at last. Her voice was lighter now, almost amused, which did absolutely nothing to make me trust it. “I don’t have access to most of the systems, but I was able to wake you up a bit. I couldn’t just leave you here, after all.”

“Investigating…” I resisted the urge to scoff, managing to make myself sound -quite accurately, as it happened- tired instead of incredulous as I spotted a nearby door and adjusted my course accordingly, my bare feet slapping on the grating. Each step sent a jiggle through places that had never jiggled before, which would have been very enticing and delightful if it wasn’t for the circumstances.

Though, even under the circumstances, there was a certain appeal to ‘sneaking’ through an evil laboratory naked and dripping wet. It was all very cinematic, I had to admit.

I knew she was telling me the truth, of course, or at least a part of one. Not only did Ada generally not lie outright -she preferred half-truths, insinuations, or playing coy to boldfaced lying- but I knew for a fact she was here to try and steal the Golgotha Virus, which I supposed qualified as an ‘investigation’.

Unless this was an ‘AU’ version of Resident Evil, which was possible. God, I hoped it wasn’t too different if that was the case, or all of my meta-knowledge would be fucking useless.

The door slid open and I stepped through, into what was quite obviously a research lab and office space directly connected to, well…me. Not just because it was adjacent to where I woke up, of course, but because images of me (naked, clothed, hospital smock, and all those fun interior images hospitals liked to have) were plastered on most of the walls.

“What are you doing? You’re in danger, you need to get out!” Ada’s voice sounded a touch concerned, and I would rather do her the courtesy of assuming that she was genuinely concerned. For the sake of her job, more likely than not, but concern was concern and I’ll take what I can get.

“I’m looking for answers, miss hero.” I said, half-teasing as I said the last word and half prodding her with -hopefully- guilt from the knowledge she was anything but. Though I wouldn’t count on that part. God, look at all of these pictures! There were dozens of them, and more than a few were covered in notes and symbols that made no sense to me. “Why I’m here, what the point of me was. Maybe even who I am.”

A half-truth of my own, that, because I knew exactly who I was looking at in those pictures, and I plucked one in particular from the board and looked at it. The person who’d taken the picture had clearly been taking a few liberties, given that my legs were spread and my knees bent to make my ass and pussy more prominent, but on some level I could understand it.

After all, if I had a woman like Natalia Alianovna Romanova -or, as I would be called around here, Natasha Romanoff-, the Black Widow herself, naked and malleable helpless, and I was a terrible human being, I’d probably take some perverted pictures to. I had to admit, too, that I was far from disappointed about my new body. I’d always had a list of women it would be amazing to wake up with the body of, and she’d always been damn near the top of the list.

“I can sympathize, but…none of that will do you any good if you’re dead, you know?” The static ate half the words, but not the edge in them, even if Ada tried to soften it with careful sympathy. “There are things in this city that will take you apart in a hurry, and you’re walking around in a lab with no clothes and no weapon. Do you understand how little time you have?”

“Yeah, I get it.” I did, and she had a point. A good one, even, in spite of whatever game of her own she was playing. “But ignorance isn’t exactly bliss either, is it?”

She didn’t answer that, which I took as a small victory, even if it was likely to only be a temporary one. I could picture her rolling her eyes, too, at what she considered either stupidity or naivety on my part. It was a funny image, and kind of a turn on to be honest.

Leaving that silence to keep on stretching on, I turned my attention to the largest and most impressive looking desk. If I’d learned anything from the games, it's that department heads of Umbrella loved having access to everything that their subordinates did, even the most private and not-work-related of things. Thusly, if I could get into the computer of the main person, I could…

Footsteps, fast and heavy and coming down the hallway outside, had my head snapping around and my eyes widening. Someone was coming, several someones, and I distinctly doubted that it was Ada or anyone else that could even nominally be called an ally. She would have told me if she was that close, I had no doubt about that, or she would have been there when I came out of the tank to rescue me in person. No, it was probably Umbrella people, quite possibly responding to me getting out of my tank, and that gave me a whole pile of reasons to not want these people finding me.

I swept the room quickly with my eyes. No vents that I could get into in a timely manner, no desk able to hide me for long -especially since trying would leave me totally blind to their movements around the room-, and that left perhaps the most cliche place possible: over the door.

Getting myself up might prove an issue, of course. Moving furniture would take time, make noise, and be immediately obvious, but…

There, a conduit, a foot further into the room than the doorframe itself. Thick, durable cabling exposed by a removed ceiling panel, probably for some kind of maintenance or something. The why didn’t matter, but it would make a decent grip to help me get up and out of sight. Long, powerful legs coiled beneath me and fired as I jumped and grabbed hold, hauling myself up before I could think too hard about whether or not it would hold my weight or turn me into a living lightbulb.

It held. My body, on the other hand, surprised the hell out of me. It shouldn’t have, maybe, given who I apparently was, but I was surprised all the same with how incredibly effortless the pull-up was. There was no strain, no burn in the shoulders, just a smooth, fluid rise towards safety, and God did it feel good. I kept moving, swinging my legs up, bracing one foot against the frame and planting the other against the far side of the recess, before finally wedging my shoulders into the corner where wall met ceiling.

Perfect fit, I realized, half-proud and half-creeped out, and almost painfully easy. My back pressed flat against the ceiling, one foot wedged against the frame, the other braced on the recess, and my fingers hooked around the cabling above me. Nothing strained. Nothing shook. I wasn’t even breathing differently. I could have stayed up here for an hour, easily and without discomfort, and as cool as that was I couldn’t help but feel a bit disturbed. And not just because of my new physical abilities, either.

Because I knew what this looked like. A naked thing folded into the corner above a doorway, waiting in the dark to drop on whoever came through. It was the sort of thing I’d spent hours of my life screaming at a television over. Hunters leaping from the ceiling. Those wall-crawling bastards, the Lickers, clinging to the plaster with their skinless muscle and their tongues, and every time I’d played those sections I’d wished a plague on whoever it was that had designed the fucking things and how ‘unfair’ they were. Now I was going to do the same damn thing, though any guilt I might have felt was thoroughly ameliorated by just who I was going to be ambushing.

And who knows, maybe I wouldn’t have to hurt them at all? They could just be random nobodies, low-level mooks or eggheads without any sort of real importance.

The door hissed open, admitting a scientist -middle aged man, balding, definitely not a low-level guy given the dark purple ‘III’ wristband he was wearing- and two security goons. The man was talking, too, loudly and irately, and I listened carefully, hungrily.

“…is a disaster! First the limp-wristed half-man, Birkin, turns traitor! Then some fool releases the T-virus into the water supply! And now the Widow project is on the loose!” he snarled, hints of a British accent shining through thanks to just how angry he was, and I tilted my head slightly with a frown. I recognized that voice, but why?

“Sir, neither of the first two issues is something that you can reasonably be held responsible for, and the Widow project was a well-paid-for commission for an outsider, not an internal project. The higher-ups can’t possibly give you grief over this when they have other people who actually deserve it.” the lead guard pointed out, following the scientist further into the room while his compatriot remained by the door.

“You must not have worked here for very long if you think that the chiefs care about being reasonable in how they dispense blame.” the scientist snapped back, stalking towards the self-same desk I’d been eyeing not minutes ago. “Nor does it particularly matter whether she was a native project of Umbrella Corporation! Umbrella resources were expended, and it’s Umbrella’s reputation with the client that’s at stake because one-hundred-and-thirty pounds of unregistered, under-the-table asset disappeared when it was under my supervision!”

Okay, that was all great information, and mildly horrifying, because that meant I’d have both Umbrella and this ‘client’ after me, whoever they were. The other side of things, however, was the fact that the scientist was about to sit down at his desk, and that could quite possibly get me spotted. Which meant the time for listening was over, and the time of killing had come.

I dropped down onto the guard by the door, barely needing to spend more than a moment of thought to plan the movement, sending the back of his head slamming into the closed door as I used him as a spring board to dive forward further into the room, curling into a somersault to bleed the impact away. The other guard turned, eyes widening as he reached for his holstered side-arm, and I leapt -pounced, really- towards him. My body twisted, a hiss of pain and pleasure punching through my lips as the movement -wrapping my legs around his head- jammed my cunt against the sharp jut of his chin. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his hands came up to grab at me, fingers digging into my ass, and I couldn’t help but be a bit grateful for it as my own dropped onto his head and jerked it sharply to break his neck.

The crack was loud in the small room, loud and wet and final. The guard’s body went slack between my thighs, and all the considerable weight of him dropped at once, hauling me down with him. I twisted on the way, released my legs, and landed in a crouch with one palm flat against the floor. The whole thing took maybe a second and a half. I wasn’t even winded.

Something about that should have bothered me more than it did, the fact that I had been able to so smoothly and so swiftly end someone’s life without anything more than my own body. And maybe it would bother me, later, but I had other things to worry about right now. For example, the first guard that was still in the midst of slowly-sliding down the door, his unhelmeted head leaving a smear on the paneling. He was still breathing, I thought, if only barely, but given where we were and how many stories I’d read of mostly-dead people giving one final effort…well, I wasn’t going to wait around to see if he finished dying on his own or not.

A deft swipe of one hand claimed the pistol the dead man had been trying to draw, and what was left of the second man’s head was sprayed across the wall as I put a single bullet through his forehead. Another body without an owner, another life ended, and I didn’t feel any guilt at all. Though I was glad to see I didn’t enjoy it too much either, no psychopathic glee at taking a life, only a certain degree of satisfaction at survival and success.

Then I spun around again, barrel tracking, and the scientist -who’d been reaching for something, belatedly trying to react to the explosion of violence that had just taken place- froze in place and paled.

“You know, I was planning on just looting this place and taking your files on me for later, but now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t take you instead.” I mused coolly, stepping over the body at my feet and padding softly towards him, lip curling in amused disgust as he seemed to be struggling to focus on the gun pointed at his head instead of my tits or pussy. “One the other hand, with your ID, I’ll have all the access I need, which means I can just kill you now. Decisions, decisions…”

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This time is going to be a little more complicated.
Every place she searches or thing she does costs one 'action', and with each spent 'action' her chances of successfully escaping unharmed drop, as time grows shorter and shorter.
Note that executing the scientist immediately doesn't cost an action, but interrogating him does, and attempting to extract him alive from the facility adds a 5% detriment to all action success chances. Up to you how worth it you consider that.

The percentage of success is as such
First Action: 100%
Second Action: 90%
Third Action: 70%
Fourth Action: 65%
Fifth Action: 50%
Sixth Action: 25%
Seventh Action: 0%

This first poll will determine what you want her to attempt (top seven, with the automatic eight action of escaping), and a follow-up poll will be held to determine what order she attempts them in. Note that in this case, escape means moving up into the Spencer Memorial Hospital, not out into the city proper.