Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, or anything to do with Resident Evil. The only thing I'd 'own', is my OC when she appears, and the new creatures I may make, if I decide to. Everything else belongs to their rightful owner(s), Capcom, and anyone else involved.

Alright. Well, here it is finally. My first story for Resident Evil. This one will probably have no pairings, and if it does, they won't involve my OC, don't worry. I'm not too sure what else I can say, so please, if you like this prologue, feel free to review and tell me what you think.~

Above the peaceful town of Burke, a glowing crescent moon shone through a thin layer of smokey, wispy clouds. The roads lay silent, with only the sound of a passing car every now and again. Above the lonely sidewalks, street lamps would occasionally light the path for any who may be out and about, though tonight, no midnight walkers were to be seen.

Houses and scattered apartments lined the semi-lit roads. Between some lay dark alleyways, home to many smaller creatures. Insects swarmed in dumpsters, feeding on old and rotting material. Some adolescent rats scurried around, salvaging what food they could in the dark, musty container. A lone man sat to the side, not caring about the smell. After all, it helped him to get a good smoke in of his illegal drug, whichever it was this time.

However, the peace, if you could call it that, of the mostly secluded alley was soon to be broken. At first, the man hadn't noticed the noise coming down towards him - he was too intent on his substance to notice - until it seemed to get a bit more persistent.

After another puff of his drug, he took the rolled up joint and looked up with bloodshot eyes at whomever was coming towards him. His voice was surprisingly clear with the threat of being caught in his actions. "Hey, whataya want?" He practically growled, before slowly standing to reveal his face to the intruder. No response came from the figure, slowly closing in.

The man who had occupied this space first did not take being ignored lightly. In fact, he'd be the first to say just how much it pissed him off. Now, without a second thought, he came towards the figure and instantly swung a harsh punch, knocking them right down to the ground. "Answer me!"

Yet again, no response came. Instead, a low groan came from new man's throat, as if he were in a good deal of pain from the punch. Despite this, however, he slowly began to rise up to his feet. Before he could stand completely though, the now obviously high man roughly grabbed him by the collar of a slightly mangled shirt. "Still won't answer, huh? Well, I'll show you, you little-"

However, he never finished his sentence. Instead, a gasp could be heard, and then a piercing scream as the sound of a struggle erupted from the alley. Then, all was silent but the soft sound of shuffling, stumbling feet.

Inside an apartment of crimson brick, lay a man in his bed. He was housed on the first floor, and disliked every moment. He could always hear street violence somewhere out there, and tonight was definitely no exception.

He could hear the yelling of someone out in the alleyways elsewhere; probably some maniac on drugs or an astray gang member... As if they weren't all astray, he mused. When the screaming and yelling finally died down, he figured it was about time he try and rest.

However... Rest wouldn't come to him. That screaming... It had sounded very close, and something about that unnerved him. It just seemed different this time, in comparison to previous fights he had overheard. This yelling sounded almost as if someone was in a battle with death himself. Maybe he should call the police...

No, no. This happens all too often. Enough so, in fact, the police have gotten downright sick of it all. Of course, for good reason... But what if something were dreadfully wrong? Would it be his fault if something else happened, because he hadn't called in and reported it? At the same time, maybe the neighbors had already called it in, and he could just be adding fuel to the flames... Ah, well. Better safe than sorry, the man had assumed.

Slowly, he pulled himself from his bed, even if it was a bit grudgingly at best. He stretched a bit, feeling his tense, tired muscles slowly begin to ease up with the effort. After which he began to stumble forward through his darkened room, pawing at the wall in search of his lightswitch. No way would he trust himself going around through his home without some form of light, after all. He may not be the most clumsy of people, but he definitely wasn't the most graceful either.

Finally, his fingers brushed against the object in the wall, and he easily flicked it up, before cursing under his breath and shielding his eyes against the harsh light that tore through the dark like wildfire. He stood there for a few short minutes, waiting for his eyes to adjust, before he uncovered them completely and glanced around his room. He hated that disorienting moment he got in moments like this... However, he soon trudged on without a second thought, and left his room.

As he walked from the short hall to the living room, he took a quick glance at his own phone, wishing it worked. For a little while, when he first arrived at the home, it had worked just fine. Something had happened with the wiring though, apparently. Well, now it was useless. All he could do if he needed to use a phone was go out into the corridor of the building, and go down a set of stairs to a basement type of area below the original living space.

Even he, a full grown man, had to admit that down there it was more than just a little unsettling. He could always hear the sound of something scampering around above - not from the houses themselves, but from the very ceiling it would seem. Almost like the sound of little rat feet, which didn't help his conviction of this place not being one of the cleanest he'd seen.

Unfortunately, he knew if he were to be a good citizen of any sort and make that report, he'd have to just suck it up, go down there, and get it over with. After all, what's the worst thing that could happen? This was no horror movie, this was real life. It was just a moldy little underground area, at best. At worst... It was just a disgusting place that he had to delve into. Nothing more, nothing less.

He hadn't realized at first, thanks to his thoughts, but he had already come to his door and had his hand on the knob as if by some instinct. Guess my body is somehow more ready than my mind. He chuckled softly to himself at that thought, before twisting the knob and revealing his way forward. The halls, as he expected, were pretty dark. There were faint lights speckled sporadically here and there, but they provided minimal support for his not-yet adjusted eyes.

He waited for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust yet again, as they had in his own house. He felt awkward as he did so, just standing there as if he had nothing better to do with his time, but it's all he could do if he didn't want to kill himself going downstairs.

As he waited, he took a glance to the side, to the large door leading into the dark night. The man was able to see a dim reflection from the cover of glass, and he could tell he didn't look amused. He seemed to have that tired, slightly agitated look to him. Hopefully no one he knew would come out at this time - who knows what they'd think.

Finally, his eyes adjusted. Though, not perfect for the darkness he'd encounter down below, it would suit well enough he figured. He let his mind consume itself in multiple thoughts as he headed down the corridor, towards where he knew the stairs leading down would be. In fact, thanks to his mental distractions, he was there before he knew it, and already heading down into the deepening darkness.

Somewhere down here, he knew he should see the faint red glow of the telephone's built in clock; that should lead the way. He just hoped nothing sharp would be sticking precariously from the floor, this time. Thankfully, nothing had gotten in his way, and he was able to do as he had come down for in the first place.

Not one for talking on the phone, really, he made the call as quick as he possibly could, to avoid being caught in any kind of awkward conversation. Though he doubted it would happen, he didn't want to chance it. With a sidelong glance at the clock, he only just now realized what time it was. The clock told him it was about 12:47 in the morning. After his call, he hung up the phone and was determined beyond all else to just go back upstairs and sleep the night, and some of the morning for that matter, away.

He now turned away from the receiver, still blinking it's soft, red color as the time changed once again. 12:48. As he was about to head upstairs, he heard a sudden crash - almost as if glass had just been smashed in with something. Instinctively, he stopped - or, more like flinched and jolted back from the stairs.

"What in the burning Hell..." The man murmured. Had someone just broken into the apartment building? If they had, odds are, it was one of those damn addicts he had just filed the report on. He'd not be surprised, at least, if it were. Though, even this tired man knew... If it were one of them, he'd have no chance without a weapon to try and fight them off. They usually carried knives or guns, after all. He had nothing.

Backing away slowly, he tried glancing around in the dark room. Though his eyes had partially adjusted, he could see hardly anything. It was so rough on his tired eyes... Luckily, he soon spotted something beside the old phone, and quickly ran to retrieve it. Just by the feel, he could tell it was only an old, rusty pipe. It had probably been taken out and replaced long ago, but it would do. It was better than nothing, after all. Deep down, he just wished he'd have something... Sturdier. This thing would probably break on impact... Hopefully, it would at least phase whomever was coming.

Not wanted to be caught in the dark if a confrontation were to occur, he slowly made his way towards the stairs once again. As quietly as he could, he began to ascend up the old, splintering wood. He heard a low groaning noise from above, though he assumed it to just be the intruders walking from somewhere above him.

As the man got closer, taking each step as slow as he could due to his nerves, he took a quiet breath in. He saw the door, right in front of the stairs, was smashed to pieces. The glass laying littered on the floor was almost like some kind of dangerous crystal, beckoning him forward and daring him to take a step on the faintly glimmering, jagged pile.

Looking down, he hissed under his breath with mere irritation. He only now realized he hadn't slipped on any shoes in his haste to just get the call over with - he only had on some thin socks, which would serve minimal protection at best. He would have to tread carefully, if he wanted to get out without getting any glass embedded in his feet.

Doing just that, he tried his best to step over and around the glass, stepping lightly so as not to attract attention or cut himself on the sharp objects below. To the side, he realized two figures, walking slowly, stumbling here and there. One had old, ragged clothes, the other's was only worn out in certain areas. Neither of them seemed to hold any weapons though, thankfully. He heard low groans, and realized their skin was an... Off, color. It had an odd tint to it that he just couldn't place. Were they sick or something?

"Who... Who are you two? What are you doing in here, and why did you break in?" He questioned them, a bit weaker than he had meant to make it sound. Great, now they'd not be scared, they'd probably find it funny. Why was he so stupid as to try and confront them, anyway? What could he do, with no real fighting experience?

The two figures, only a little way ahead of him, stopped. Slowly, the two men turned to face him, and he gasped in pure and utter shock. They didn't look human in the slightest. No pupils could be seen in their cold, dead eyes. Their eyes were milky, faded, and soulless. Both of their mouths were open as they groaned, and they looked diseased at best. This was just like some sort of stereotypical horror movie... It just couldn't be real.

Now that they saw this man, however... They wanted him. They wanted something about him, and they began to come closer to him. Their speed seemed to pick up, and he lifted his rust covered pipe high in the air, ready to strike. "D-Don't come any closer! You hear me? Stop!"

The two would not stop, though. They were out for his blood, and he could just... Sense that about them. As they approached, he swung the pipe as hard as he could, and the metal cracked against one of their heads. Just as he predicted, the old metal easily broke upon the harsh impact. Thankfully, though, it connected just as he hoped. The advancer fell with a sharp grunt.

Unfortunately, all he had now was a stub from the pipe, and there was still another attacker. He was about to lash out and try to cut the man with the jagged edges of the pipe, but was caught off guard by a sharp pain in his ankle. Looking down, he saw the previous enemy, the one who had fallen, biting hard into him. Blood began to coat around the edges of his sock, and he winced with pain. The distraction proved fatal, as now, the other was able to get its own attack in.

The next thing the man felt was teeth tearing into his neck and shoulder, along with the pain in his ankle. He tried to beat away his attackers, but he felt his attempts get weaker and weaker. Soon, he slumped down to the side, blood dripping from the wounds. The pain was horrible, agony tore through his whole body. It felt almost like a white heat was ripping through his veins, threatening to tear him apart from the inside out.

Something inside him, amongst all the pain, seemed to be prying at his very soul; dragging it through every crevice before tucking it far away, never to be found again. To him, the world was now nothing more but a feeding ground, and new instincts kicked in. Blood, flesh, food, breed, spread. Slowly, he rose to his feet, and limped along with the other two, scattering themselves. This time, he wasn't heading back to his room - He was heading towards his next source of food. The closest source of humanity.

His neighbors would now be what he seeked to consume.