The Raccoon City Police Department was a crumbling monument to its own failure. Once a beacon of order in a chaotic world, it now stood as a hollow shell, echoes of gunfire and screams reverberating through its halls. The dead had overrun the streets, and the survivors had retreated into the few safe zones, their hopes dwindling like the flickering lights in the station's corridors.
For her, this place had become a labyrinth, one she was growing increasingly familiar with. But unlike the officers who had once patrolled these halls, she had no illusions of justice—only survival.
Clad in tactical gear, a suppressed pistol at her side, and a bag heavy with supplies, she stalked the narrow, dimly lit corridors of the RPD. The air was thick with the pungent scent of decay, mingling with the sharp tang of burnt gunpowder.
Her footsteps were measured, the soft click of her boots barely audible against the battered tiles. She had come here with a purpose—retrieve the evidence files from the station's evidence room, and maybe, just maybe, uncover more about Umbrella's twisted experiments. But even now, the weight of the system's latest mission loomed over her like a shadow: Locate the armory key. A secondary objective, but one that could provide the firepower she needed for what was coming.
The system's interface flickered in her peripheral vision, updating her inventory and mission progress.
System Alert:
Objective: Retrieve the armory key from the evidence room.
Secondary Objective: Secure any available supplies in the RPD.
Penalty: Diminished stamina after prolonged combat encounters.
She suppressed a sigh. The last thing she needed was to be more tired than she already was, but the system was insistent.
A faint scratching noise reached her ears. She froze, pressing her back against the cold stone wall. Her senses sharpened. Low moans followed by the unmistakable shuffle of dragging feet echoed from the corridor ahead. Zombies.
With a practiced fluidity, she pulled her suppressed pistol from its holster. The barrel cool against her palm. She adjusted her stance, ready to move in for a clean headshot. There were no guarantees in this world, but when it came to combat, she didn't miss. Not often.
Her enhanced perception allowed her to focus on the small details—the flicker of a rotting arm from around the corner, the telltale scent of decay hanging thick in the air. Her finger hovered over the trigger. One more step.
The first zombie rounded the corner, its eyes clouded with death and its mouth slack. It saw her and gave a guttural growl, mouth agape. A quick, efficient shot silenced it. Then another, and another. Three shots, three down. The others—seemingly aware of the noise—began to shuffle in her direction.
Time to move.
The evidence room was just ahead, its door partially ajar, revealing nothing but shadows and the thick, metallic stench of blood. Her mission was clear. She just had to get through whatever waited inside.
But as she moved closer, the sound of a voice broke through her focus.
"You're late," Marvin Branagh's voice was strained, weak, but somehow, there was an attempt at humor there.
She stopped in her tracks, eyes narrowing as she scanned the room. Marvin, the last of the RPD officers who had not yet succumbed to the outbreak, sat slumped against the wall. Blood was soaking through a hastily applied bandage around his side.
"Marvin," she said, her voice flat but with a hint of surprise.
He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though it was more of a grimace. "The others... they didn't make it."
Without another word, she crouched next to him, her hands already pulling out her medical kit. It was efficient. Her movements sharp, practiced. She sprayed a coagulant onto the wound, watching as the bleeding slowed.
"You're a hard one to kill," Marvin muttered, his voice strained.
Her gaze flicked over the room, calculating their next move. The mission wasn't done.
"Stay put. I'll get you out of here."
Marvin shook his head weakly. "Get... the armory key. Evidence room." He paused to catch his breath. "It's... locked in the locker... behind the desk. But..." He looked toward the dark corner of the room.
"Something's in there," he whispered.
A chill ran down her spine, but she didn't show it. Instead, she nodded. "I'll handle it."
But before she could stand, Marvin's hand shot out, grasping her wrist with surprising strength.
"If you find anyone else..." He swallowed hard, his eyes locking onto hers with a silent plea. "Don't leave them behind."
For a split second, she saw something like remorse in his eyes, something that she had long since buried in her own heart. But she didn't respond, her gaze flicking to the task ahead.
"I won't."
The locker was easy enough to find, tucked in a corner of the room beneath overturned filing cabinets and strewn papers. The key was there, just as Marvin had described. But her hand froze just above it. The scratching noise had returned, louder now, almost frantic. The growling from the corner of the room was unmistakable.
Her heart pounded, but she wasn't about to back down. She pulled the knife from its sheath and crouched low, moving toward the source of the noise.
Then it came into view—a hulking figure, its massive form barely fitting between the broken shelves and debris. Its skin was a sickly shade of green, slick with a viscous sheen. Its head was too large, its arms stretched unnaturally long, tipped with claws. A Hunter.
The system pinged.
New Threat Detected: Hunter B.O.W.
Abilities: Enhanced speed and agility. Regenerative capabilities.
Weak Point: Head and thoracic cavity.
She had fought Hunters before, but this one... it looked different. Stronger.
With no time to waste, she pulled the suppressor from her pack and attached it to her pistol. She knew from experience that noise was never your friend in these tight spaces.
The Hunter lunged toward her, its claws slashing through the air. She fired, a single, clean shot to its head. The impact made it stagger back, but it quickly recovered, its glowing eyes locking onto her.
Time for a different tactic.
In one fluid motion, she dropped to a crouch and threw a flashbang. The bright burst of light was enough to disorient the Hunter, its movements becoming erratic.
She capitalized on the opening, springing forward to a nearby shelf, vaulting over it and landing behind the creature. Her knife was in her hand before her feet even hit the ground.
Without hesitation, she drove it deep into the Hunter's neck, twisting it for good measure.
It crumpled to the floor, black ichor pooling around its body.
She wiped the blade clean with a cloth, her expression unreadable.
"Not so nasty now," she muttered under her breath.
The armory was everything she had hoped for and more. Walls lined with guns, ammo, grenades, and tools. Her system flashed alerts as she moved through the room, scanning each shelf with growing anticipation.
New Items Acquired:
Custom suppressor attachment. Incendiary and explosive grenade schematics. Prototype railgun (requires significant stamina).
A sleek, modular assault rifle caught her eye, and she immediately attached the suppressor. Then, as her hand hovered over the prototype railgun, a sudden realization hit her. She had been in enough close calls to know that this weapon could be a game changer.
"Guess this is for the big boys," she muttered, slinging it across her back.
Her inventory now felt as solid as the weapons at her disposal. And yet, the knowledge that Umbrella was still out there, watching, hunting, made her uneasy.
The clatter of the front doors pulling open cut through the stillness, and she turned, fingers tightening on her rifle. A group of survivors stumbled into the armory.
"Who are you?" one of them asked, her voice shaky as she gasped for air.
"Your best chance at living," she replied, keeping her eyes sharp.
The chapter closes with the survivors looking toward her as the door slams shut behind them, but their uncertain glances are interrupted by a new, more urgent mission from the system:
System Alert:
Objective: Locate Umbrella's underground lab. Uncover the truth behind your arrival in Raccoon City.
As she leads the survivors deeper into the building, the shadow of Nemesis looms. The stakes are rising, and the truth is getting closer. But so is the danger.