GRAVEDIGGER ━━━ leon s. kennedy

seven.

Vera, with handcuffs around her wrists and a body that seemed to creak like a rusted robot with unoiled joints from centuries past, knew she could never overpower a man like Irons head-on. Even at her best, she was playing a losing game. Vera's greatest asset was her mind, but in her current disoriented state, even that was operating at only half capacity. She felt like a machine running on pure spite and anger with minimal fuel, and it was frustrating to admit that her intellect couldn't fully help her at the moment.

She had to sneak up on him, no other way came to mind.

Back in the day, Vera used to tiptoe around the patrolling hours and patterns of nurses, caregivers, and security guards with her friend group. She would carry a paper that contained all the details she had painstakingly prepared to be accepted as one of them, whether it was to pull pranks, steal food, or sneak out to see the outside world. It had been years since she had last planned such meticulous distractions and routes to safely evade what were essentially just nurses doing their job, but her bones remembered. It was muscle memory, something that came as easily to her as breathing.

With her mind racing at a hundred miles an hour, the plan formed almost instantaneously in her head, appearing as spontaneously as a rain cloud forming in the sky before a downpour. Nevertheless, Vera still tried the front door first, only to find it locked, prompting her to mutter, "Right. Why did I even bother?"

All she was left with was unadulterated hope that nobody, after all these years, had found the secret treasure they'd stashed away for possible future use, consisting of so many stolen items only children would have thought as necessary.

While keeping one ear attuned to the classical music and any irregular sounds that might indicate Irons was leaving the director's office, Vera successfully climbed the stairs, fearful that they would creak and groan under her weight. She made a beeline for the joint bedroom where all the kids used to sleep together, ignoring her curiosity to stop and stare at the interior, which had been changed, repainted, and redesigned with much lovelier, brighter colors. The only guidance she had as she made her way through the room were the ominous shadows dancing on the walls from the dim light trickling in through the windows. However, even with the bizarre situation at hand, she found herself getting lost in bittersweet nostalgia, and her fascination wasn't deterred.

As she made her way past the internal corridor, Vera passed what used to be her own private room, set apart from the other kids due to her status as a media-famous child, who brought in considerable income from benefactors, donors, and philanthropists. It was almost as if Vera had made it all up, given how Irons held her in such low regard. However, the communications directorate and the gifted children scholarship program in Umbrella made it abundantly clear that Vera was indeed their golden goose, the one who laid the golden eggs. Vera vaguely remembered having to show many journalists around her room for interviews and shows, that's how she was certain it wasn't just a dream.

Despite briefly reminiscing about the past, Vera didn't feel any emotional connection to her old room. It was just a faded memory stored in her brain. She spared only a hollow glance at the closed door, which only brought up emotions instead of details, before quickly moving on in pursuit of her original goal. In the back of her mind, she could smell a familiar perfume after someone had passed her by, and she remembered a book with a plot she generally recalled, but with many pages ripped off and the remaining ones stained black with smeared ink.

The common sleeping quarters on the other hand, seized her heart in a merciless death grip even though it wasn't the same anymore, having been transformed into a nursery of some sorts, the rows of cribs empty and disorganized.

This was the place where, on random nights during her turn for visits, she would sneak in to spend time with her friends. She would hop into bed and get underneath the sheets with a different friend each time, stifling giggles as they exchanged stories. Their naked feet pressed together and tickle attempts turned into play-fights, which they would try to stifle at the last minute to avoid being noticed by the nursemaids.