6:20 A.M.
September 23, 1998
Raccoon City
Brambly Apartment Buildings
"Good mornin' Raccoon City!" the alarm buzzed beside Maverick Crosby's ear.
"And indeed what a good morning! Just look at that beautiful sunrise here at 6:21 a.m." the announcer read with such enthusiasm. Maverick groaned, turning aside the deafening blow from his radio.
"Shut up," he moaned, rubbing his hands across his face, trying with some effort to wake up.
"Now, on to the weather for today, September 23; it looks like we'll start with a beautiful morning, clouds gathering in the afternoon, for some possible heavy thundersto-I've just received an announcement from the Raccoon City Memorial Hospital..."
Maverick sat up, searching blindly for the light switch; paying somewhat attention to the radio.
"Raccoon City has now reported yet another rodent attack this morning, at around 4:52 a.m. Another citizen was rushed to Raccoon City Memorial for treatment to several wounds inflicted by wild rats. This is the eleventh case reported to the Memorial, and now police and medical officials are warning all citizens of Raccoon City to take extreme caution. The rats are considered a threat, carrying rabies and other common diseases. If you are bit by one, no matter how serious or not the wound may be, report immediately to Raccoon City Memorial Hospital to be treated. Again, another citizen..." Maverick listened with intrest as he climbed out of bed.
"Damn rat bites me, he's got another coming to him, and that's my foot." he chuckled, heading to the bathroom, which he shared with his twin brother, Skylar. The door was ajar, with the light on inside. Maverick knocked and called out.
"Skye?"
No answer, but shuffling was heard.
"Skye, you in there?" he asked, pushing the door open softly. His movement was cancelled by a slamming of the door in his face.
"Skylar, I'm your twin. Whatever you have, I have it, and more of it." he sarcastically replied, annoyed at the action his brother took. Still, no answer.
"Jerk..." Maverick mumbled. A door was heard opening from Skylar's room, and closing just as quickly. Maverick reached for the knob of the bathroom door, and opened it. Mumbling curses under his breath, he flipped the light switch. Everything seemed normal, all in place. Nothing was wrong. So, what was with the scene Skylar made? He rolled his eyes at the thought, and began stripping his night clothes away to get in the shower.
The shower water took forever warming up. After all, Maverick and Skylar did live in a run-down apartment. They couldn't afford a nice place to live with the salaries each of them were payed. Skylar was a Pharmacy Technician at the local drug store; Maverick worked at the police station, as one of the lower classes. In other words, Skye issued people's drugs prescribed by a doctor, and Maverick was nothing more than a secretary who did small errands at the Raccoon City Police Department.
Finally, after an agonizing fight with the hot water heater, Maverick got out of the shower. Drying off, he noticed he was looking a bit "rough around the edges," and decided it was time for another shave. Reaching under the cabinet, he got out the shaving cream, laying it on top of the counter. However, he couldn't seem to find his blade. Searching the cabinet, his elbow hit the shaving cream can, knocking it into the small, plastic trashbin. Maverick sighed long, finally finding his razor. Reaching into the trashcan, he stopped immediately, in shock.
"Oh my God..." Inside the trashcan, lay several bloodied tissues. Maverick quickly turned away, but was only more horrified. In the hamper, uncovered, was a fresh bloodied towel.
"Skylar!" he yelled frantically, coming out of the bathroom. "Skylar! Where are you?" Rushing out the kitchen, came Skylar.
"Here, here! I'm here. What's wrong?" he yelled, coming face to face with Maverick.
"What the hell did you do in there? If that's a shaving accident, then damn, you bleed easily. Why did you leave that stuff in sight? You know I'm spooked by blood. Especially, when I'm surrounded by it!" Maverick exclaimed, shivering now because he ran out in only a towel, and the air conditioning in their apartment happened to be going. Skylar laughed hard, amused by his little brother's act. He loved referring to Maverick as his little brother, even though he was only older than him by four minutes.
"Sorry," he managed to get out, trying to catch his breath, "No, it wasn't a shaving accident. Next time, I'll be sure to hide everything from you." He laughed again, this time satisfying himself. As he walked away, he felt the burning eyes of Maverick still on him.
"What?" Skylar asked moodily. Suddenly, his tone became much darker.
"You're not even going to tell me what happened? You would have had to have one hell of bump to make that much blood. Did you treat it?"
"Yes, yes I treated it. Now don't worry about it." Skylar replied annoyed, stomping away into the kitchen. Maverick observed him for a moment, but then thought best of asking him twice. Going upstairs, he shuddered, looking at the bathroom, and quickly changed for breakfast.
* * * * * * *
At the table sat Skylar, eating his burnt toast, while skimming over the newspaper. Maverick cleared his throat. Skylar eyed him for a minute, then went back to his paper. He cleared his throat again.
"Would you stop doing that?" Skylar ordered. Maverick huffed, realizing his brother was still in a bad mood. He sat down at the table, trying to find a conversation topic to talk about before they both left for work.
"Were you listening to the radio this morning?" he asked curiously.
"No." Skylar replied simply, hinting at the irritation he was getting from his brother.
"Another person was treated at Memorial for a rat bite, early this morning. That makes eleven that have been reported. The counts climbing up." Maverick said nonchalantly.
"Yeah, but notice," Skylar added, "This is only eleven that have been REPORTED. Probably more have been bit, just not said anything."
"Well, that's not smart," Maverick continued, "Don't they need shots and prescribed medication?"
"More than the usual people have been coming in often for certain over-the-counter drugs that deal with rabies symptons, and other after affects of a bite from a wild animal." Skylar said informatively.
"Hmm," Maverick pondered.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Maverick, quit worrying about the rats," Skylar replied, irritated. "Just don't leave food open, get up any crumbs, and if you see any, blast them." Maverick smiled. It was just like Skye to get a short, sweet ending to something, then move on.
"So," he said slowly, "You never told me what happened up in the bathroom. And why'd you slam the door in my face?" Skylar shook his head angrily.
"I hit my head on the counter."
"Where's the gash then?"
"It's on my head, where you can't see it." Skylar replied dryly.
Maverick shook his head, and decided to drop the subject finally. His questions weren't getting him nowhere, and it was obvious he was becoming an extreme annoyance to Skylar. Leaving the table, he finished getting ready and headed out the door to go to work.
"I'm leaving. I'll see you at around eight tonight. What time do you go in?"
"Ten o'clock." Skylar shouted from his bedroom. "We'll probably be really busy, so I wouldn't try the phonelines. That goes for dropping by as well. See you later."
* * * * * * *
8:32 A.M.
Raccoon City
Raccoon City Police Department (R.C.P.D.)
Walking through the door, phones were ringing off the hook. The police department was a nightmare. Reaching to unlock the door to his office, Maverick found it already unlocked.
"Well, it's about time you came, Crosby!" a voice rang out.
"Marvin," Maverick replied, nodding his head as he sat down his bag. "Needing something?" Reaching in his pocket, Maverick pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Marvin's face crinkled in disgust.
"I really wish you wouldn't smoke with me in the room."
"Well, if I didn't smoke with you in here, you'd take your sweet time staying." Maverick devishly smiled, as Marvin sighed heavily and continued.
"I got two things to discuss with you."
"Okay," Maverick said simply, situating himself in his chair behind the desk facing Marvin Branagh, a fellow policeman, higher up on "the chain" than himself. "Go."
"Well, I better save the best for last, so I'll come out straight with the first subject: why the hell did you turn down an offer to join the S.T.A.R.S. unit? We received a call from head of the organization, pleading us to ask you to reconsider your option of joining them. You are highly qualified, and exceed some of their standards, Mack...what the hell's wrong?"
Maverick smiled, leaning back in his chair.
"Let's save you and me a waste of time, huh, Marvin? Yes, I was accepted into S.T.A.R.S. Yes, I turned them down. You ask why I turned them down, though you of all people should know why." he smirked.
"Maverick, if this has anything to do when you were in the Air Force, and that whole thing with Redfield that shouldn-"
"It shouldn't affect my decision, if I may finish for you, but it does and I don't won't to go into the S.T.A.R.S. unit." he said sharply.
"Then why the hell did you apply to be in it?" Marvin asked directly. Maverick stared blankly.
"Wasn't there something else you wanted to talk about?" Maverick said, changing the subject quickly.
"Yeah, you've heard about the eleven cases of rat attacks, I'm sure?"
"Uh huh; there was another one this morning, right?" Marvin shook his head, and continued.
"Before you came...something else was reported..."
"What are you talking about?"
"Four people have turned up missing, and...and..."
"Spit it out, Marvin."
"Six citizens have been reported dead."
"Dead..."
"Yes: six."
Silence.
"You're hiding something."
"The rest of the details are a bit...graphic."
"...What-are you talking about?" Maverick asked cautiously.
"The six victims have been...almost devoured."
"Devoured?"Maverick replied anxiously, leaning far up in his seat.
"They, uh," Marvin stumbled over words, "...They've been stripped of flesh, basically."
"What the hell?"
"I saw four of them live, and the other two from pictures. Maverick, they've been mauled, eaten."
"Oh my God...alive?!"
"We're not sure..."
Maverick stared in horror, as the words wheeled in his head.
"When did this happen?" he asked slowly, really not wanting to know anymore as mental pictures of the people appeared in his head.
"We're working on it."
"Why are you telling me all this? Isn't this kind of case for Upperclassmen in R.C.P.D.?"
"It's very complicated, and when I have time, I'll explain it all to you in much deeper detail. You have been tied in with this..."
"How the hell am I connected with this?!" Maverick shouted. "I have not a goddamn thing to do with this."
"Will you shut the hell up and lower your voice?" Marvin screeched. Maverick relaxed back in his chair.
"The S.T.A.R.S. unit has played a huge role in this. What it is, I can't tell you right now. But, because you are wanted by them, you have become involved in this case through techincal qualifications that they argued. Honestly, Mack, I know what's going through your head: I really do. And I know you, well enough, to know you're going to say hell no when asked to become more heavily involved-"
"Damn straight, I will." Maverick cut in quickly.
"Will you let me finish?" Marvin replied irritated and sharply. "But, if you want my honest to God truth, if I were you, I would take this chance."
"Marvin-"
"No! Listen to me, Mack. Take this oppurtunity." Maverick shook his head in shock. Marvin eased up, changing the subject.
"That's all I'm saying," he ended quickly, "But anyways, how's Skye?"
"Why do you ask that?"
"Because I wanted to know how he is." Marvin replied simply.
"He's fine, I guess. Been real busy lately, with this and that. He freaked me out this morning."
"How?"
"According to him, he 'hit his head' in the bathroom, and left blood rags all over the place. And you know how I am about blood." Marvin laughed, but saw the uneasiness in Maverick's eyes.
"Must have been one hell of bump."
"I'd say so." Marvin looked at him suspiciously.
"Why don't you believe him?"
"I do, I do,"Maverick replied, "He was just acting, awkward this morning in particular. He's been like that for this past week."
"What do you mean, awkward?" Maverick shook his head, taking another slow inhale of his cigarette.
"Just forget I said anything. It's probably just me overreacting. The whole blood thing this morning, and now this case has just got me a little spooked. That's all."
"You sure?"
'Yeah," Maverick added reassuringly, "That's all. I was gonna call or stop by on my break to see Skylar, but he said they've been real hectic lately, and I don't wanna upset him."
"Yeah, that's probably the best thing to do." Marvin agreed. Suddenly, Maverick sat up quickly.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Marvin, can you bring me the files about the rodent attacks?"
"Well Mack, I can't. Just 'cause I mentioned it, doesn't make you elligible to see them."
"Marvin, I swear I won't smoke for a whole month if you bring me those files." Maverick replied with a sweet smile.
"You won't?"
"I swear to you, I won't."
"Well my white friend," Marvin began, "You have yourself a deal."
September 23, 1998
Raccoon City
Brambly Apartment Buildings
"Good mornin' Raccoon City!" the alarm buzzed beside Maverick Crosby's ear.
"And indeed what a good morning! Just look at that beautiful sunrise here at 6:21 a.m." the announcer read with such enthusiasm. Maverick groaned, turning aside the deafening blow from his radio.
"Shut up," he moaned, rubbing his hands across his face, trying with some effort to wake up.
"Now, on to the weather for today, September 23; it looks like we'll start with a beautiful morning, clouds gathering in the afternoon, for some possible heavy thundersto-I've just received an announcement from the Raccoon City Memorial Hospital..."
Maverick sat up, searching blindly for the light switch; paying somewhat attention to the radio.
"Raccoon City has now reported yet another rodent attack this morning, at around 4:52 a.m. Another citizen was rushed to Raccoon City Memorial for treatment to several wounds inflicted by wild rats. This is the eleventh case reported to the Memorial, and now police and medical officials are warning all citizens of Raccoon City to take extreme caution. The rats are considered a threat, carrying rabies and other common diseases. If you are bit by one, no matter how serious or not the wound may be, report immediately to Raccoon City Memorial Hospital to be treated. Again, another citizen..." Maverick listened with intrest as he climbed out of bed.
"Damn rat bites me, he's got another coming to him, and that's my foot." he chuckled, heading to the bathroom, which he shared with his twin brother, Skylar. The door was ajar, with the light on inside. Maverick knocked and called out.
"Skye?"
No answer, but shuffling was heard.
"Skye, you in there?" he asked, pushing the door open softly. His movement was cancelled by a slamming of the door in his face.
"Skylar, I'm your twin. Whatever you have, I have it, and more of it." he sarcastically replied, annoyed at the action his brother took. Still, no answer.
"Jerk..." Maverick mumbled. A door was heard opening from Skylar's room, and closing just as quickly. Maverick reached for the knob of the bathroom door, and opened it. Mumbling curses under his breath, he flipped the light switch. Everything seemed normal, all in place. Nothing was wrong. So, what was with the scene Skylar made? He rolled his eyes at the thought, and began stripping his night clothes away to get in the shower.
The shower water took forever warming up. After all, Maverick and Skylar did live in a run-down apartment. They couldn't afford a nice place to live with the salaries each of them were payed. Skylar was a Pharmacy Technician at the local drug store; Maverick worked at the police station, as one of the lower classes. In other words, Skye issued people's drugs prescribed by a doctor, and Maverick was nothing more than a secretary who did small errands at the Raccoon City Police Department.
Finally, after an agonizing fight with the hot water heater, Maverick got out of the shower. Drying off, he noticed he was looking a bit "rough around the edges," and decided it was time for another shave. Reaching under the cabinet, he got out the shaving cream, laying it on top of the counter. However, he couldn't seem to find his blade. Searching the cabinet, his elbow hit the shaving cream can, knocking it into the small, plastic trashbin. Maverick sighed long, finally finding his razor. Reaching into the trashcan, he stopped immediately, in shock.
"Oh my God..." Inside the trashcan, lay several bloodied tissues. Maverick quickly turned away, but was only more horrified. In the hamper, uncovered, was a fresh bloodied towel.
"Skylar!" he yelled frantically, coming out of the bathroom. "Skylar! Where are you?" Rushing out the kitchen, came Skylar.
"Here, here! I'm here. What's wrong?" he yelled, coming face to face with Maverick.
"What the hell did you do in there? If that's a shaving accident, then damn, you bleed easily. Why did you leave that stuff in sight? You know I'm spooked by blood. Especially, when I'm surrounded by it!" Maverick exclaimed, shivering now because he ran out in only a towel, and the air conditioning in their apartment happened to be going. Skylar laughed hard, amused by his little brother's act. He loved referring to Maverick as his little brother, even though he was only older than him by four minutes.
"Sorry," he managed to get out, trying to catch his breath, "No, it wasn't a shaving accident. Next time, I'll be sure to hide everything from you." He laughed again, this time satisfying himself. As he walked away, he felt the burning eyes of Maverick still on him.
"What?" Skylar asked moodily. Suddenly, his tone became much darker.
"You're not even going to tell me what happened? You would have had to have one hell of bump to make that much blood. Did you treat it?"
"Yes, yes I treated it. Now don't worry about it." Skylar replied annoyed, stomping away into the kitchen. Maverick observed him for a moment, but then thought best of asking him twice. Going upstairs, he shuddered, looking at the bathroom, and quickly changed for breakfast.
* * * * * * *
At the table sat Skylar, eating his burnt toast, while skimming over the newspaper. Maverick cleared his throat. Skylar eyed him for a minute, then went back to his paper. He cleared his throat again.
"Would you stop doing that?" Skylar ordered. Maverick huffed, realizing his brother was still in a bad mood. He sat down at the table, trying to find a conversation topic to talk about before they both left for work.
"Were you listening to the radio this morning?" he asked curiously.
"No." Skylar replied simply, hinting at the irritation he was getting from his brother.
"Another person was treated at Memorial for a rat bite, early this morning. That makes eleven that have been reported. The counts climbing up." Maverick said nonchalantly.
"Yeah, but notice," Skylar added, "This is only eleven that have been REPORTED. Probably more have been bit, just not said anything."
"Well, that's not smart," Maverick continued, "Don't they need shots and prescribed medication?"
"More than the usual people have been coming in often for certain over-the-counter drugs that deal with rabies symptons, and other after affects of a bite from a wild animal." Skylar said informatively.
"Hmm," Maverick pondered.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Maverick, quit worrying about the rats," Skylar replied, irritated. "Just don't leave food open, get up any crumbs, and if you see any, blast them." Maverick smiled. It was just like Skye to get a short, sweet ending to something, then move on.
"So," he said slowly, "You never told me what happened up in the bathroom. And why'd you slam the door in my face?" Skylar shook his head angrily.
"I hit my head on the counter."
"Where's the gash then?"
"It's on my head, where you can't see it." Skylar replied dryly.
Maverick shook his head, and decided to drop the subject finally. His questions weren't getting him nowhere, and it was obvious he was becoming an extreme annoyance to Skylar. Leaving the table, he finished getting ready and headed out the door to go to work.
"I'm leaving. I'll see you at around eight tonight. What time do you go in?"
"Ten o'clock." Skylar shouted from his bedroom. "We'll probably be really busy, so I wouldn't try the phonelines. That goes for dropping by as well. See you later."
* * * * * * *
8:32 A.M.
Raccoon City
Raccoon City Police Department (R.C.P.D.)
Walking through the door, phones were ringing off the hook. The police department was a nightmare. Reaching to unlock the door to his office, Maverick found it already unlocked.
"Well, it's about time you came, Crosby!" a voice rang out.
"Marvin," Maverick replied, nodding his head as he sat down his bag. "Needing something?" Reaching in his pocket, Maverick pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Marvin's face crinkled in disgust.
"I really wish you wouldn't smoke with me in the room."
"Well, if I didn't smoke with you in here, you'd take your sweet time staying." Maverick devishly smiled, as Marvin sighed heavily and continued.
"I got two things to discuss with you."
"Okay," Maverick said simply, situating himself in his chair behind the desk facing Marvin Branagh, a fellow policeman, higher up on "the chain" than himself. "Go."
"Well, I better save the best for last, so I'll come out straight with the first subject: why the hell did you turn down an offer to join the S.T.A.R.S. unit? We received a call from head of the organization, pleading us to ask you to reconsider your option of joining them. You are highly qualified, and exceed some of their standards, Mack...what the hell's wrong?"
Maverick smiled, leaning back in his chair.
"Let's save you and me a waste of time, huh, Marvin? Yes, I was accepted into S.T.A.R.S. Yes, I turned them down. You ask why I turned them down, though you of all people should know why." he smirked.
"Maverick, if this has anything to do when you were in the Air Force, and that whole thing with Redfield that shouldn-"
"It shouldn't affect my decision, if I may finish for you, but it does and I don't won't to go into the S.T.A.R.S. unit." he said sharply.
"Then why the hell did you apply to be in it?" Marvin asked directly. Maverick stared blankly.
"Wasn't there something else you wanted to talk about?" Maverick said, changing the subject quickly.
"Yeah, you've heard about the eleven cases of rat attacks, I'm sure?"
"Uh huh; there was another one this morning, right?" Marvin shook his head, and continued.
"Before you came...something else was reported..."
"What are you talking about?"
"Four people have turned up missing, and...and..."
"Spit it out, Marvin."
"Six citizens have been reported dead."
"Dead..."
"Yes: six."
Silence.
"You're hiding something."
"The rest of the details are a bit...graphic."
"...What-are you talking about?" Maverick asked cautiously.
"The six victims have been...almost devoured."
"Devoured?"Maverick replied anxiously, leaning far up in his seat.
"They, uh," Marvin stumbled over words, "...They've been stripped of flesh, basically."
"What the hell?"
"I saw four of them live, and the other two from pictures. Maverick, they've been mauled, eaten."
"Oh my God...alive?!"
"We're not sure..."
Maverick stared in horror, as the words wheeled in his head.
"When did this happen?" he asked slowly, really not wanting to know anymore as mental pictures of the people appeared in his head.
"We're working on it."
"Why are you telling me all this? Isn't this kind of case for Upperclassmen in R.C.P.D.?"
"It's very complicated, and when I have time, I'll explain it all to you in much deeper detail. You have been tied in with this..."
"How the hell am I connected with this?!" Maverick shouted. "I have not a goddamn thing to do with this."
"Will you shut the hell up and lower your voice?" Marvin screeched. Maverick relaxed back in his chair.
"The S.T.A.R.S. unit has played a huge role in this. What it is, I can't tell you right now. But, because you are wanted by them, you have become involved in this case through techincal qualifications that they argued. Honestly, Mack, I know what's going through your head: I really do. And I know you, well enough, to know you're going to say hell no when asked to become more heavily involved-"
"Damn straight, I will." Maverick cut in quickly.
"Will you let me finish?" Marvin replied irritated and sharply. "But, if you want my honest to God truth, if I were you, I would take this chance."
"Marvin-"
"No! Listen to me, Mack. Take this oppurtunity." Maverick shook his head in shock. Marvin eased up, changing the subject.
"That's all I'm saying," he ended quickly, "But anyways, how's Skye?"
"Why do you ask that?"
"Because I wanted to know how he is." Marvin replied simply.
"He's fine, I guess. Been real busy lately, with this and that. He freaked me out this morning."
"How?"
"According to him, he 'hit his head' in the bathroom, and left blood rags all over the place. And you know how I am about blood." Marvin laughed, but saw the uneasiness in Maverick's eyes.
"Must have been one hell of bump."
"I'd say so." Marvin looked at him suspiciously.
"Why don't you believe him?"
"I do, I do,"Maverick replied, "He was just acting, awkward this morning in particular. He's been like that for this past week."
"What do you mean, awkward?" Maverick shook his head, taking another slow inhale of his cigarette.
"Just forget I said anything. It's probably just me overreacting. The whole blood thing this morning, and now this case has just got me a little spooked. That's all."
"You sure?"
'Yeah," Maverick added reassuringly, "That's all. I was gonna call or stop by on my break to see Skylar, but he said they've been real hectic lately, and I don't wanna upset him."
"Yeah, that's probably the best thing to do." Marvin agreed. Suddenly, Maverick sat up quickly.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Marvin, can you bring me the files about the rodent attacks?"
"Well Mack, I can't. Just 'cause I mentioned it, doesn't make you elligible to see them."
"Marvin, I swear I won't smoke for a whole month if you bring me those files." Maverick replied with a sweet smile.
"You won't?"
"I swear to you, I won't."
"Well my white friend," Marvin began, "You have yourself a deal."