RESIDENT EVIL (2002) is a science fiction horror film based from the video game franchise.
12/07/09 | Film

Resident Evil

by Hoa Ngo

Of course, we used to be people. But the curse associated with this house quickly transformed us.

Our downstairs neighbors, once vegetarians, grew into wolf creatures, their hunger satisfied only by raw meat. Many is the time I’ve heard the rending of flesh or caught the unmistakable scent of fresh blood wafting through the floor.

My wife can no longer sleep because of the thorny black wings growing from her shoulder blades. And my awkward claws can barely grasp a pen to scrawl this message, a warning to all those who might enter this accursed dwelling.

It could be worse. The previous tenants, a promising young couple, fell out of love.

When we moved into the building, they each made a point of taking us aside and confiding the failings and weaknesses of the other.

One day I saw the woman taking out the garbage. She stopped on the porch and meticulously went through the plastic bag, tossing out various items.

“He’s such a slob,” she said. She continued on her way and left everything where it lay.

“That’s his garbage. He can take it out.”

On another occasion, I was folding laundry in the basement. The husband wandered in although he had nothing to wash. At the time, my vocal cords still functioned, so I said hello.

“My wife never does the laundry,” he said.

I said nothing and continued to sort my clothes.

“And she has an abscess, you know. So her breath really stinks.”

By that point, my fingers had already fused together, so folding clothes was an agonizingly tedious process.

“Do you know what it’s like waking up to that every day?”

I had no choice but to listen.

I never saw their child. But through the walls, I could hear the child being spoken to.

“Your father is lazy, don’t you be lazy too.”

“Your mother really likes to order people around, doesn’t she?”

I rarely heard them speak to each other. I never heard the child respond.

Before the couple went their separate ways, they would pick up strangers and bring them back to the house, attempting to make the other jealous. At the end, they could not bear to be in the same room together.

I do not know what became of the child.

As for the rest of us—we have accepted our fates. Some nights, we all get together on the porch and devour some hapless college student who wandered onto the property.

Our neighbors’ dog, curiously, has been unaffected by the curse. After each bloodletting, she trots around and licks our hands, even my serrated pincers.

I am no longer able to speak. But if I could, I would express gratitude to her for accepting our terrible new forms. I would thank her for forgiving us our monstrous ways.