Disclaimer:: I don't own Resident Evil, or any character designed for the game itself. That all belongs to Capcom.

Prologue

I had read it in the papers one morning… the dead walking amongst the living once more? At first, I couldn't believe such an eccentric statement put out by the two-faced media, even when hundreds, no, thousands of people were dying every day, I still did not believe it. I couldn't. I shut it out, trying to stay with reality, keep my grasp on life for just a little while longer, if at all possible. I was stubborn, and naive then. And even so, Raccoon City was clearly too far away from Las Vegas to matter…right?

Wrong.

Back then, I was an officer working for the Las Vegas Police Department, under Chief Sanders and Lieutenant West. I was living alone, besides my older brother Christian living in the room beside me. I didn't know who my parents were, or if they even existed. The only thing on my mind, was to follow orders, try and be useful. Las Vegas was peaceful then, nothing big was ever happening there, everyone was too scared to do anything. They didn't want to die; they wanted to value any shred of being left within their veins. All of those hopes and dreams they had…their entire lives, shattered by the moaning cry of the undead.

When they came to Las Vegas, I was horrified. The media hadn't been lying, and I was too ignorant to take heed their statements.

It was all my fault…

Lieutenant West was first. When that 'thing' crashed into the station, screams echoed throughout the entire building's structure. I could hear it from floor I was currently working in, along with several gunshots, which caused me to run down to see what all the commotion was. I should have never gone down… What I found left in the rubble and chaos, wasn't Lieutenant Moore; but a ravinous creature who's only set thinking process was to feed, and use whatever means necessary to obtain that feeling, if they had any feelings, that is. I didn't have a choice. I was petrified; the only move I could muster was my finger tapping the trigger of my .9 mm handgun. The bullet ripped through the Lieutenant's skull, killing him for the second, and last time.

I cried…

A sort of calm fell across the town for a grace period of one week. The survivors managed to find a way to escape the country, while the bravest ones stayed behind the destroy the disgraces lumbering through the city. Chief Sanders was one of those foolish men. I don't know if he made it out alive, or was overrun by monsters. Truth is, I didn't want to find out. I couldn't bear the thought of killing another man.

Eventually, the town of Raccoon; the beginning of the entire viral outbreak was contained, or so we thought. The remaining people rebuilt, and continued life, that same fear clawing at the back of their minds at all hours of the day. Would the dead return…for them? Of course, the thought was unbearable, but they just had to move on.

So we did.

That was six years ago…

My brother and I are currently living in New Mexico, I, working as a part-time bartender while he's still trying to get his music career started. I didn't take on another police position in New Mexico, I didn't want history repeating itself again, like everyone always says. Over time, everyone grew arrogant and carefree like before, seemingly forgetting everything that had happened six years prior.

I eventually grew the same way.

That's safe to say…until the president's daughter was kidnapped, and I was called.

-Riley Skotte Moore

preceding the Las Plagas infectious outbreak in Europe.