Resident Evil 7 Mother Novels & Stories

That was my mother's legacy, and if I didn't act soon, it would become mine too. As the gold flakes fell to the ground, I remembered the last time I saw Hailey. She held a small vial, gold and gleaming, filled with my mother's ashes. Hailey had always been clever, always one step ahead. She must be using the remnants of my mother's soul, amplifying that darkness, wielding it to control the minions Katherine had created. For generations, my mother had poisoned her people, bringing them to the brink of death, only to revive them with magic and bind their souls to her. They were puppets, zombies. And in a way, we had all become part of her cursed play.

Suddenly, from the corner of the room, their mother’s voice rose in a broken wail. “Carla! Don’t take one of my children. It’s just me… It’s just me. Don’t make them suffer!” The plea cut through the air like a knife, raw and pleading. Their mother’s eyes were wide with terror, her bound hands twisting against the ropes as she rocked back and forth. The name “Carla” hung in the room like a summoned ghost, a tangible thread linking the present torment to the sins of the past. Eloise and Elena exchanged a glance heavy with shared dread—the curse was stirring again, drawing closer, its tendrils reaching for what little they had left.

And a woman in a grey coat—my mother—being forced into a car by men in Sterling security uniforms. ​"You think you’re the only one who knows how to find ghosts, Julian?" Arthur mocked. "I’ve had Valerie Vance in a comfortable 'retirement' for a decade. She’s been very helpful with the Medusa encryptions. But she’s getting old. She’s getting tired. And I think she’d very much like to see her daughter one last time." ​My heart stopped. My mother was alive. She was here, somewhere in this house, or in a facility owned by the man standing in front of me.

I spoke to myself, my throat aching with every word, but it felt good to vent. “You are absolutely correct,” a woman agreed as she walked towards me. She was gorgeous, she was wearing a red halter top and floor length red and black skirt, her hair was braided over her shoulder framing her sharp features and her eyes which swirled pink and purple and were otherworldly. “Who are you?” I asked. “I am Hellebore, also known as Lazarus’s mother.” “You’re his mom? You look so young.” “Thanks dear, that’s immortality for you. Anyway, I came by to see how you are feeling. Do you need anything?”

She smelled like an empty operating room. The Watcher. The woman stopped ten feet above the floor, hovering in the air. She looked at me—at the broken statue of the Mother—and her mouth didn't move, but her voice vibrated directly in my stone ribs. [ANOMALY IDENTIFIED: THE MOTHER] [STATUS: DECOMMISSIONING INTERRUPTED] [VERDICT: RECLAIM THE MARROW] "Who... are you?" I rasped through the speakers, my digital voice glitching with Kael’s frantic static.

"Did you miss me?" Behind her, more figures started emerging from the underground. Wolves with glowing eyes, with claws like blades, with power that made the air itself feel dangerous. Dr. Marsh raised her weapon, but The Mother just smiled. "Too late, doctor. You had your chance to kill me right. Now you get to watch me take everything you tried to protect." The Mother's gaze found me, and her smile got wider. "And you must be the one who's been looking for me. How nice. Now I know exactly where to find my daughter."

Mother just sat at the sitting room crying, silent deep sobs that made her fragile body shake between sobs. I just watched her helplessly, I didn't know what to do. What can a seven years old girl do especially when you know the whole problem resulted from your being born. I felt the sting of burning tears in my eyes and a realization that left a bitter taste in my mouth. "My father doesn't love me and from all indications doesn't want me either." This thought killed me softly, I crouched at the back of the door and held my doll tightly and that was where my mother found me hours after my so-called father left. ********

Or perhaps a hypothetical one constructed by the Codex to test her resolve. At the pulpit, a priest spoke. “She inherited a legacy of fire, and to fire she returned. Elena Montrose, betrayed by blood, erased by ambition.” “No,” she whispered. “I didn’t die. I’m still—” “You died the moment you hesitated.” The voice came from the side. Elena turned, and her breath caught. It was her mother. Alive. But distorted. Her mother wore the same dress she’d been buried in, but her skin shimmered like a glass filled with data. Her eyes were warm—too warm—flashing with ancient binary like she’d been rewritten.

I looked at Zeve, “but she is right here. Alive, breathing…” Mother nodded, “yes. Externally with the body, but internally she is dead. Now, no matter what you do to her, she will never react. Yes, she is breathing and living, but she is no more alive.” I gulped and looked at Zeve again and kept contemplating her. I raked my hair backwards, confused. “There is a limit of endurance, Amor.” Mother’s smile soon turned into a painful crescent. “What are you saying…” “You finally killed her. Congratulations. Now she won’t even try to end her life, so rest assured. The last string on her patience, endurance and trying to survive snapped.” Her voice trembled.

And the red-eyed woman had been the one to kill her. ________________________________________ A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the ruins, sending a chill down Eve’s spine. She spun around, heart pounding, as the red-eyed woman emerged from the shadows, her presence suffocating. “So, you’ve finally come,” the woman murmured, her voice silk and steel. “I was beginning to think you’d never follow the whispers.” Eve’s fingers curled into fists. “You… You killed my mother.” The woman tilted her head, amusement flickering in her crimson gaze. “Is that what you saw? How convenient.” She stepped closer, the moonlight sharpening her features. “And yet, dear Eve, there is so much you don’t know.