Authors Note: Okay, this is my third time rewriting this story, but it's a totally different storyline, this time. I realize that I've been approaching it the wrong way. This is the prologue. Let us journey back to Raccoon City once more. Rated M for intense violence, pervasive language, and adult situations. Although most of the characters in this story are original, there are some who are from the original Resident Evil series. I do not own those such characters in any way, nor will I ever. Enjoy the show.

PROLOGUE

8:16 AM, May 16th, 1996

The alarm clock buzzed and hollered, breaking the semi silence of the dark apartment room. Groans punctuated the loud, obnoxious noise, which quickly grew angry as it persisted. A hand reached out from under a pile of bed sheets thrown together in a heap, and punched the alarm clock off the bedside cabinet. The clock flew off the cabinet and smashed onto the floor, the lens cracking. That was the only sound to wake John Tessman up in the mornings.

John reluctantly moved the sheets off of his head, and gazed at the broken clock. He held the gaze for a second, then said "eh, I'll fix it later."

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and got up, scratching his head. His brown hair was matted to his head, and he rubbed it profusely. He yanked on a T Shirt, and jeans, then walked over to the window, and drew the shade up.

Light from the sun shining above Raccoon City spilled into the room like wildfire spreading across dry wood. He blinked in a haze, trying to come to terms with the light. John rubbed his eyes again, clearing them a bit, and opened up the window completely.

The confusing jumble of noises from the polluted city was a bit stunning first thing in the morning, but it sure jolted him out of his stupor. Gunshots in the distance, dogs barking, men and women screaming, and the loud honks of cars jamming the streets. He grinned at the noise, it was his own personal sedative.

John quickly did his normal routine. He middle – fingered the city from the window, and screamed "FUCK YOU!" for no reason whatsoever. He smiled to himself as hundreds of people below looked up at him without a shred of enthusiasm, since he did the same thing every morning. Some people just laughed and shook their heads, not even looking up. John strode away from the window and grabbed his cell phone off of his desk. He pressed speed dial, and put it up to his ear, waiting. While he waited, he paced around the room, smiling to himself, thinking, another day in Raccoon, another day busting more bastards and canning the worst.

A click sounded in his ear, and John heard the most welcome noise since he had woken up … Claire's voice. "Hello?" she said.

"Hey, baby," John replied, sitting down on his bed with a sigh. "How are you?"

He heard Claire groaning similarly to how he had groaned, and she said "tired, but otherwise just peachy. And you?"

"Ah, never better. Damn, I love this city," John chuckled. Claire laughed – she was used to his attitude in the morning. He was always looking forward to the day. Always loving his job as a cop.

"So what's new?" John asked. "Have you seen anything different about –"

"No, no," Claire said hastily. "Look honey, you cant talk about it on the phone, someone might have tapped the line, we cant take that chance."

John waited patiently. Claire said "what I have discovered about the thing you're talking about, there isn't really anything to tell. Its still in the jar, but I took a few samples out and looked at them through my telescope. I tell you, I have never seen anything like it, John."

He sensed uncertainty in her voice, and tried to calm her down. "Hey, hey, don't worry. As long as it stays in the jar and doesn't spread, then there's nothing to be worried about. I'm gonna come over today after my shift to check up on you, okay?"

"Okay," she said, and he heard her voice returning to normal, but it still quavered. "But I don't get it … why would anyone just leave something like this in an alleyway?"

"We'll talk about it when I come over tonight, okay?" said John.

"Alright," said Claire, and John could sense a smile in her voice. "Be careful out there. Bust some fuckers for me."

"Heh … I will, baby. Love you."

"Love you too."

A click resounded through the receiver, and John pushed end.

He got up from the bed, thinking hard to himself. We shouldn't be keeping a virus around … its far too risky. If it spreads, it will be our fault for not destroying it. And …what if it's the virus from those years ago?

That horrible thought was more than he could bare. A breakout in Raccoon City again? He could not let that happen. So he decided to tell Claire to destroy it when he got to her apartment after work that day. With that thought in mind, he tossed on a coat, holstered his pistol, slammed his window shut, and strode out of his room, his mind racing furiously.