Claire walks through the corridors which lead to the lecture hall. She was offered the day off "sick" today, but she didn't accept.
It is the third of October 1999 – the date upon which last year she survived the Raccoon City incident.
She's in the last year at Harvard University, finishing her final exams, and meant to be having the time of her life.
But she couldn't.
The things she saw and went through back in Raccoon had haunted her every minute of every day. She'd been to see a therapist, but he only reminded her of the psycho Ashford siblings back at Rockfort Island, and made her feel as if she was now in their category – crazy and psychotic. She didn't want to be thinking like that, but she couldn't move the thought from her mind.
The only people keeping her sane are Chris and Leon. Leon had been in Raccoon with her, helping her and Sherry get out. And her brother, Chris, is just being a protective older brother. They both tell her that it is normal to feel like she currently does after everything, but she still doesn't believe them.
The worst thing about it all wasn't the monsters, the fear or the lonely prison she was sent to. It was excepting that Steve died, and no matter what Albert Wesker promised her, she knows that he isn't going to come back. And even if Wesker did manage to bring him back, he wouldn't be the same.
The fact that she hadn't heard any word about Sherry bugged her too. Claire had looked after the little girl as much as she could in the situation of Raccoon. The last thing Claire heard about Sherry was just after she'd met up with Leon after getting out of the Ashford Mansion. He said she was fine, but they were under close Special Forces supervision, so she doubted he was telling the complete truth.
Bringing herself back to the present, Claire gets to the lecture hall with a few minutes to spare, and sits in her usual seat. She gets her textbook out, realising that she forgot her folder for notes. Her dorm room is the other side of campus, and decide since it the first time she's forgotten it, the lecturer should let her off.
She looks around the vast space of the lecture hall, with its plush red seats and old-fashioned chalkboard. She realises that there's nobody in there. Not a single soul but her own.
Claire checks her time sheet; she's in the right place at the right time.
So… where's everybody else? Claire thinks, panic starting to rise inside her. She gets up from her chair and walks between the rows of silent chairs. She reaches the door, turning the old handle and pulling it open towards her.
She turns down the brightly lit corridor, seeing nobody and hearing nothing. Nonetheless, there is an unsettling feeling of another presence as she looks in to the next classroom. There is nobody in the next classroom, and the door is locked.
I should try one of the staff rooms, Claire thought, taking a step back and turning around –
-Only to see her friend Bailey stood behind her. She didn't say anything, looking at her extravagantly high heels and incredibly glamorous clothes.
'Hey Bailey,' Claire says. 'What's going on? Where - ?' she stops abruptly.
She finally notices Bailey's skin is charcoal grey; her tangled hair, and the blank, clouded eyes.
The bite mark on her arm.
The gruesome, wide scratches on her neck.
The crimson blood pouring from both wounds…
And the slight, wheezed groan Bailey gives in answer to her questions.
Claire steps away, trying to not get worried or scared. When she was just over five metres away from Bailey, she started to sprint back towards the lecture hall, taking metre long strides to move as swiftly – however not flexibly – as possible.
She swung the door of the lecture hall open, slamming it shut behind her. She locks the door. Leanng up against the door, Claire takes a deep breath, trying to even her hasty breathing and slow her flying heart.
Umbrellas are back, and are deadly serious, Claire thinks, finally realising what has happened.