Author's note: I don't usually do these anymore but I felt that it was necessary. This was originally going to be a sequel for my other story, "Resident Evil: White Project", but I've just felt more motivated to write a story like this with Steve Burnside as the protagonist rather than a side character. I'll still continue my other story but it isn't really popular and I haven't quite got the plot for it, nor do I have the motivation for it. So here we go.

-RESIDENT EVIL: THE BURNSIDE CHRONICLES-

~Prologue~

What a boring day. School hadn't taught him anything yet again. He had just zoned out in most classes and now he was stil daydreaming on the bus journey home. He watched the scenery passing by as he listened to his music through his headphones, waiting for his stop. His stop was one of the last ones so he had quite a while to go.

At some point he returned to reality when seeing that the bus had arrived at his friend's stop. He removed his headphones so that he and Mason Tremblay could exchange a brief "see ya" to one another. Once Mason had jumped off the bus and walked past the window Steve Burnside returned to his world of music.

Ten more minutes and he was finally at his stop. The teen climbed off and thanked the bus driver before embarking on his journey home on foot. He had to walk for about fifteen or twenty minutes before reaching his rather isolated home.

As he arrived at the door he finally turned off his music player, letting himself inside.

"Honey! Steve's home!" he heard his mother call out the moment he closed the door behind him.

"Hello, son!" his father greeted as he made his way down the stairs and to the door. "How was your day?"

Steve forced a rather tired smile, worn out from the day, the bus journey and the walk. "It was alright," he answered. "Nothing much happened."

His father laughed heartily. "I can tell! You look like you've had the life drained right out of you."

Steve sighed and rubbed his head but let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah," he agreed. "Feel like it, too."

"You should probably go and take a nap, sweetie," Steve's mother said as she also came to greet her son. "I'll call you down when dinner's ready."

"Thanks, mom," Steve thanked, smiling at her kindly. He jogged up the stairs and made his way to his room, flicking on the light switch. His room was like any other teenager's room: messy, covered with posters and school work piled up either on his desk or in a corner.

The teenager threw his bag onto the floor and flopped back onto his bed, staring up at his ceiling thoughtfully. He let his eyes flutter before drifting off into a well-deserved sleep.

Crash.

Steve gasped and immediately opened his eyes, sitting himself up. How much time had just passed? Was he asleep for long? And what was the sound?

'Mom's probably dropped a plate again,' he thought to himself as he stood up. But he heard shouting. Screaming.

His father was screaming.

His mother was screaming.

They couldn't have been arguing; they loved each other too much. Had somebody broken into the house? A burglar? A murderer?

Steve grabbed the handle of his door and flung it open, darting across the small landing and down the stairs. He stopped halfway down, his eyes widening in complete horror as he stared at the sight before him.

He could see that all of the windows had been smashed in the front room. His parents were both on their knees with their hands behind their heads. His mother was crying and his father was yelling in anger. Surrounding them were men clad in black and armed with guns, masks keeping their faces hidden.

So far Steve hadn't been noticed, and perhaps he could have made his way back upstairs without any of these men knowing he was here, but what kind of son would walk away from this? Not only that but he was just too afraid to move at this point, still not sure if the scene before him was real. Maybe he was just having a nightmare...

Steve barely had control over himself as he let himself speak out: "Mom? Dad?" His voice wavered a little and sounded like it belonged to a confused yet frightened child. "What's going on?"

Steve's father looked horrified as the men all turned to face the teen. His mother had briefly stopped crying before she wailed once again, fearing the worst as the surrounding men gestured to her son and said something about "getting the boy".

"Steve!" his father yelled as the men ran towards the staircase. "Run, Steve! RUN!"

He didn't. He was too afraid. Afraid of what could happen to his parents. Afraid of what could happen to him. He still had no idea what was happening.

His eyes were on his parents until the last second. He fell backwards as the men ran up the first few steps towards him, but before he landed on his back his arms were grabbed and he was dragged down the stairs.

"Dad?!" he cried out as he was pulled along back into the front room. His eyes were full of terror. His mother wailed and pleaded for these men to leave her son alone, though most of the time it was difficult to understand exactly what she was saying.

Steve was forced to his knees, one man aiming his gun at him. "Hands behind your head!" the masked individual commanded. Steve flinched and did was he was told, turning his head to look at his father fearfully. His father stared back at him with a somewhat guilty expression on his face.

"Please, leave him alone!" his mother howled. "Whatever it is you want, leave our son out of this! He's young, he hasn't done anything to deserve this! Just leave him alone! Please, I beg of you!"

"Shut her up," one man ordered to another man in an emotionless tone. Steve and his father had no time to process the command as they suddenly heard the loud bang of a gun going off. They both turned their heads towards the sound, seeing the man who had been spoken to with his handgun pointed at the blonde woman. The gun was smoking.

Steve was slower to react than his father. He watched as his mother fell onto her front, her blue eyes wide and empty. Her mouth hung open slightly and a puddle of blood suddenly started to form around her head.

He was staring. The world around him had been muffled. All he was focusing on was his mother as the world around him blurred.

His father was calling out to him, but he sounded so far away. He could hear a high-pitched ringing sound more than anything else.

Slowly he turned his head in the direction of his father. While he still wasn't focused he could definitely see that his male parent was staring at him. He was yelling. What about? He could only just make out his name being repeated in a distressed voice.

The faint sound of a gun clicking could be heard. Steve turned his head slightly and saw that in front of him the same man was ready to put a bullet into his brain. He simply stared at the weapon used to kill his mother without reacting. He was still. He was silent.

"Steve!" his father shouted. "Don't you dare shoot him! Not my son! STEVE!"

The armed men looked at each other and nodded silently. The man with the handgun pulled his weapon away and grabbed the redheaded teen, forcing him to stand. Steve's father was about to question what they were going to do with him but found himself being forced up to his feet as well.

"Where are we going?!" he demanded. "Where are you taking us?!"

"You don't need to know, Doctor Burnside," the leading man answered calmly. Steve's father clenched his teeth together.

"Bastards!" he roared. "You're all bastards! You're all going to hell!"

Even while being dragged out of his home Steve remained silent. He was able to walk to avoid collapsing in his captor's arms but was unmoving otherwise. His eyes were on the ground and his expression was still filled with pure fear.

Steve's father sharply turned his head to look at his son. His expression went from angry to horrified. He had done this. This was his fault. If it wasn't for him, Steve and his wife would still be alive. He had pretty much led his family to their deaths.

The two Burnsides were shoved into the back of a black van. They couldn't see the outside world so obviously they were being taken to a secret location. Steve's father could only stare at his son, the haunting look on his face making him feel nothing but guilt.

For some time the journey was silent and the older male had closed his eyes, letting out a painful sigh. Beside him his son was still keeping his head down, but slowly he seemed to return to reality.

Steve slowly lifted his head and looked at his father, that look of fear still upon his face. "...Dad...?" he spoke quietly, immediately catching his father's attention. "Where are we going...?"

The softness to his son's voice broke his heart. He still hadn't processed what was going on. He almost seemed... innocent. And he knew that soon enough that innocence would be taken away from him.

"Son..." he murmured, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close in a protective manner. Steve didn't even react, though finally tears were beginning to form in his glazed eyes. His father squeezed him and rested his head upon his, doing his best to remain strong for his last living family member.

"It's going to be alright..." the man cooed. He knew he was lying, but he couldn't tell his son the truth. "I'll protect you, okay...? I won't let anything happen to you..."

Steve's tears leaked from his eyes. He was pressed against his father, held tightly in his arms. All he could see was the moment his mother lifelessly fell to the floor. Nothing else was on his mind. He listened absentmindedly to his father's hushes and soothing words, but he realised that they meant nothing to him.

He knew that his father had done something to make this happen.

His father's mistakes were going to cost him his life.

~End of Prologue~