The dim corridors of the Raccoon City Police Department felt like a tomb. Emergency lights flickered, casting jittery shadows along the blood-smeared walls. Somewhere deeper within, the guttural groans of the undead mingled with sporadic gunfire. Every step echoed ominously, a cruel reminder that danger lurked around every corner.
She moved with precision, her suppressed pistol raised and her sharp gaze sweeping every nook and cranny. A faint trail of blood led her deeper into the station, the coppery scent mingling with the acrid stench of burnt gunpowder.
At a barricaded door, she paused, crouching low to listen. Beyond the hastily stacked desks and chairs, faint scratching mixed with low, animalistic growls. Her breath caught.
Flicking her system interface open, she assessed her inventory. The sleek grid displayed an array of tools, but she opted for a compact lockpick set and a small, jury-rigged alarm—a crude device designed to lure enemies away with a piercing sound.
"Always be prepared," she muttered, echoing the words of an old mentor.
With practiced ease, she dismantled the barricade and slipped inside.
Marvin Branagh sat slumped against the wall of the dimly lit office. Sweat slicked his pale face, and a dark stain spread from the makeshift bandage pressed against his abdomen.
"You're late," he said, a weak grin tugging at his lips.
She knelt beside him, scanning the room for threats before pulling a medkit from her pack.
"Hold still," she said, her voice brusque but steady.
The coagulant spray hissed as it hit his wound, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Marvin.
"Armory key," he managed through gritted teeth. "Locker…Evidence Room. But it's…guarded. Nasty son of a bitch in there."
She nodded, already focused on the next step. Her gaze flicked to his nearly empty sidearm, and then to the door.
"Stay put. I'll handle it."
As she rose to leave, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist. His dark eyes burned with quiet desperation.
"If you find anyone else…don't leave them behind."
For a moment, her expression softened. "I won't."
The path to the Evidence Room was a nightmare of narrow corridors and relentless threats. Zombies lurched from shadows, their milky eyes locking onto her with unholy hunger. She dispatched them with methodical efficiency, her silenced rounds finding their marks with chilling precision.
The door to the Evidence Room creaked open, revealing chaos within. Overturned shelves spilled documents and supplies across the floor, while a thick, metallic tang filled the air.
A growl stopped her in her tracks. Low and guttural, it reverberated through the room like a warning.
Her shotgun came up, its barrel loaded with incendiary shells. The interface pinged a warning:
New Threat Detected: Hunter B.O.W.
Abilities: Enhanced agility, razor-sharp claws, regenerative tissue. Weak Point: Head and thoracic cavity.
The creature lunged from the shadows, a blur of reptilian muscle and razor-sharp claws. She dove, firing mid-roll. The incendiary round connected, igniting the beast in a burst of flame.
But it didn't stop.
Blinded by the firelight, she grabbed a flashbang from her belt and hurled it. The explosion of light disoriented the creature just long enough for her to scramble onto a toppled shelf. Knife in hand, she leapt onto its back, driving the blade into the exposed sinew of its neck.
With a final, choked hiss, the Hunter collapsed, ichor pooling beneath its twitching body.
She wiped the blood from her blade, breathing heavily. "Not so nasty now."
The armory key glinted from a nearby locker. She pocketed it and moved on.
The armory was a sanctuary of order amidst chaos. Rows of pristine weapons and ammunition lined the walls, and her system lit up with alerts as she scanned the stockpile.
New Items Acquired:
Custom suppressor attachment. Incendiary and explosive grenade schematics. Prototype railgun (requires significant stamina).
She spent a few precious minutes attaching the suppressor to her rifle and crafting grenades. The railgun, a monstrous device with an energy core, caught her eye. She hefted it experimentally, its weight promising destruction.
"Guess this is for the big boys," she murmured, slinging it over her shoulder.
The sound of gunfire and desperate screams drew her toward a barricaded office. Inside, a young officer and a civilian fought off a swarm of undead.
She didn't hesitate. Pulling a grenade from her belt, she yanked the pin and lobbed it into the heart of the horde. The explosion scattered the zombies, giving her the opening she needed to reach the barricade.
"Move!" she barked, covering their retreat with precise headshots.
Once the door was sealed, the young officer slumped against the wall, trembling.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice shaky.
"Your best chance at living," she replied, reloading her weapon.
The survivors led her back to Marvin, who looked marginally better. He nodded approvingly at the new arrivals.
"Thought you'd leave them behind," he said, his voice tinged with quiet gratitude.
She smirked faintly. "Not my style."
The moment was cut short by a system alert:
Warning: Tyrant-class B.O.W. approaching. Recommended Action: Evade.
The ground trembled with the weight of heavy footsteps.
"Everyone, move!" she ordered, ushering them into a side room.
The Tyrant smashed through the wall, its towering form framed by a cloud of dust and debris. Its cold, unblinking gaze locked onto her, and she fired an explosive round. The blast staggered it but didn't slow its advance.
"Run!" she shouted, standing her ground.
The fight was brutal. Grenades, incendiary rounds, and makeshift traps barely fazed the creature. A single punch sent her crashing into a desk, pain radiating through her side.
Gritting her teeth, she pulled the railgun from her back. It hummed to life, draining her stamina as it charged. The Tyrant lunged, and she fired.
The energy blast obliterated its upper body in a burst of light and heat.
She collapsed to one knee, gasping for breath.
Tyrant Neutralized. Stamina at critical levels.
Marvin approached as the survivors emerged, their expressions a mix of awe and gratitude.
"You're not just a survivor, are you?" he asked.
She smiled faintly. "Not exactly."
The system pinged one last time:
Objective: Access Umbrella's underground lab and uncover the truth.
As the group followed her deeper into the station, her determination burned brighter than ever.