Secret Study Room (and secret access to S.P.I.R.E.)

Inside the grand foyer of the Administration building, a rather chipper Dr. James Issac Ferral hummed as he had a little 'lift' in his step. The elderly man with his liver spots, jaundice and pale figure wasn't usually seen in this kind of mood when wandering about the Campus. He didn't teach there, at least not since '69, but he was always there for speeches and other nonsense he didn't give a damn about- when the company asked him to. "Hmm hm hm~" He hummed oddly enough... three blind mice. With no deeper meaning other than it was stuck in his head as he made his rounds.



The out of sink way however, he hummed the nursery rhyme was a tad unsettling. He strolled his way around the corridors, swiftly swung around pillars and beams in the main foyer which was a replica of the Main Hall of the Spencer Estate, the Ashford Antarctic Manor, and the Training Facility he used to occupy with Dr. Marcus... one could surmise those three were the three blind mice he supposed, but left such odd behavior's aside as he made his way to the secret panel behind the stairs. A simple logic puzzle after, the door gave way and he descended the steps. A Dr. Patrick Jenkins was there, who turned to him quickly, his diary flying across the desk as he stared at the Doctor and Professor, James Ferral.

"P-Professor Ferral, I thought you were Gre-"

BANG!

The flash in the dark room lit up as Ferral smiled, watching Jenkins' body collapse into the chair, body causing it to swing as he twitched with a 9mm parabellum bullet lodged into his skull.

"Hmm hm hmm~" Ferral only continued humming three blind mice, brow twitching slightly as he made his way over to the computer the man had been sitting in front of. He gently nudged the big man in his computer chair aside so he could get to work. "O-C-E-A-N..." he says out loud as he typed out the password for his secret terminal to appear. He cared not for what Dr. Greg Mueller had in store for the city, or the corporation. In some ways they were the same.

Suddenly the man himself appeared in a side window.

"That wasn't very nice, Dr. Ferral... but you saved me the trouble of taking care of him myself. Thanks." He says with a small smile.

"Do you mind... Mueller? The 'real scientist' is busy. Go play with your silly tyrant and mind your own beeswax."

"Heh. You mean playing with your amphibians and reptiles? You're as much the dinosaur you spent your research grant on obtaining... You're a fossil. A relic of the past much like Spencer and Marcus."

"At least you didn't pool me in with that twat, Ashford." He says, not looking at the man as he continued typing in code. "Leave me be Mueller. I don't see why we have to play games with one another. You do things your way, and I'll do mine. I care not for the Daylight Serum you talk about-"

"-how did you find-?"

"-or how Umbrella doesn't really care for your Thanatos project, but will gladly take their research grants worth back from you once you've gone cold and dead."

"-you insolent, little pric-!"

The window vanished, and Ferral smiled. "And now that I've locked you out Herr Mueller... I can get back to my own research. Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours. Don't and you'll see how my little pet projects will seem less a joke as they engorge themselves on your cold corpse you conceited fuck."

He finished his line of code, and a side panel made from the bookshelves peeled away, revealing Ferral's hidden side room he had installed perhaps a decade or so ago. When this room was being 'created' by Mueller, he bribed the engineer to keep what he already made a secret in exchange for some nazi gold he had saved up from his Uncle's dealings with the Third Reich. He pocketed the Luger Artillery model, which was also his Uncle's, and entered the small room. Lights turned on as he walked through, some popping with age and sparks flew about. "You see, Mueller... you lack the experience of surviving the Hell of the Blitzkrieg, the bombing of London which took my family before I had to move away..." He continued, and as he came to the older set of monitors which booted up upon him entering, he smiled. "I learned how to make a contingency plan... for just about everything." He smirked, sliding his old push pin card into the system's mainframe which then sent a signal down... hundreds of feet down, into his specialized lab... the S.P.I.R.E.

Small lights activated under several specimen pods strewn about the campus... the red lights flickering impatiently.

With a wave of his hands like a musician strumming his well practiced instrument, the mad-man began tapping away at the computers. "The other thing I learned from the bombings... is how to keep yourself entertained. Sometimes it was rats... other times cats or dogs... but if you were lucky you got an injured person... buried helplessly under rubble... and that piece of sharp metal in my hand... got very... intimate." He says activating the pods one by one.

"You can find... numerous ways to keep your mind from losing itself in a high-crisis situation. Sometimes the best action is to simply... sit back and... watch the chaos evolve." He smirked.

With that, the flickering red lights became a stale, solid green and the formulin fluid containing many of his wretched specimens began to drain... a sharp jolt to their heart, beating blood into their veins again, the creatures awoke from their deep slumber and stasis!

"Hmm... hmm.... hmmmmmm..." He hummed three blind mice again, brow twitching as he turned away to find his way back to his lab.