Legal Stuff: I do not own any of Resident Evil, I leave that up to my good 'ole friends in Capcom. I do however own my little pawns in this story mwahaha. Ehm anyway enough of that.

A/N: Ok I've tried this fanfic thing many a times but I really enjoy writing this one and have put some effort into researching the things I do not know for this. As opposed to pulling things randomly out of my butt. But if you like this story please review I need the attention. I have posted this before, but I added better character descriptions. So please review!!!

Ever since he had come to work at the lab Robert Olan had had trouble sleeping. Not helping was the fact that he thought he was being deceived. Since when has a freshly-out-of-college kid gotten the lead on a new medical study with forty something's under him? It seemed very suspicious, even if he could hold his own in any debate they posed against him about his work. He didn't feel that it was because of his intelligence or his cunning that he got the position that he has. Some company intrigue was the last thing he needed, and just what he didn't want was to be the scrape goat if that was what he was being set up for.

He was a tall and skinny man, but he did have some meat on his bones (although only God knows where he got that from). Robert had always prided himself on his piercing blue eyes that seemed to be able to look into your soul. He had said that that was one of the biggest reasons why he got the job. Even though he was skinny and probably couldn't win an all-out brawl, he didn't have trouble making people listen to him because he demanded respect. His long hazel-brown hair fell messily over his eyes signaling that he had most likely been working long hours and hadn't found the time to sleep yet.

After about an hour of feigning sleep, Fred Hurn, Robert's assistant who wasn't much younger than himself, shook Robert from his faux slumber. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Fred in his lab coat and glasses which he always wore even when sleeping, Robert never knew why but he didn't bother to ask. Fred brushed a lock of blonde hair away from his face as he stared at Robert with his auburn eyes.

"Uh….Uh….Mister Olan sir….there's-"

"Fred how many times must I tell you call me Robert you're only like a year younger than me. Man, don't make me feel old already" It was true that Fred was only a year younger than him. In fact they went to the same university. Fred was a senior now and it was the university's policy to have the seniors studying pharmacology intern at Umbrella. Robert had noticed that Fred had come from the university and requested to have him become his personal assistant. Oddly enough they had given in to his request, which once again was rare for a first year employee.

"Well Robert sir, uh…there's been an accident at the lab."

"This better not be just another damn spill because you can just tell the scientists who spilled it to put on a couple of hazmats and clean the damn thing up. There's no reason to wake me for that!"

"Well not exactly, um…a few of the mice we were experimenting on got loose."

Robert sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. This sort of thing happened often enough that his verification wasn't needed anymore. "Yeah fine go kill them or something."

"Um...of course sir right away." Fred pushed his glasses further up onto his nose and rushed out of his employer's room.

Now Robert was up for good. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his company issue cell phone and looked at the time. The digital clock on his phone read: 3:45 am. Semi-unconsciously, Robert walked to the bathroom and splashed his face a couple of times with the freezing cold water.

If the higher-ups really were setting him up for something then he would have to deal with it soon.

Logan couldn't discern up from down while he lay in some foreign bed covered in what he thought was his blood. The red sticky liquid oozed from a gash in his head. As he attempted to reach up his hand was instantly struck down.

"Damn he's waking up, I need some Sevoflurane now!"

A face mask was placed over Logan's mouth and nose and soon after a sweet smell intoxicated him and made the room spin rapidly. Darkness blinded him and he fell fast asleep.

Logan woke to the sound of a beep at consistent intervals. He still wasn't quite sure where he was but he noticed that he wasn't bleeding anymore, instead he felt about twenty tiny bumps where the gash used to be. Also he wasn't in the same bed he had awoken in the first time.

"Ah you're awake mister…"

"Logan Miller."

"Very good, you didn't seem to have any identification when you were found we didn't know who you were."

"Yeah I don't really remember what happened." That was a lie but for now that was fine with Logan.

"Well you seem to be fine," he began to read off of the chart on Logan's bed "minor bruises, a single gash to your forehead-no damage to your frontal lobe, lucky you-, hrm a gunshot wound what were you doing?"

Logan tried to shrug but he found the bullet wound was just below his right shoulder. Regretting ever trying he winced in pain and went back to his original position. The doctor frowned and placed his chart back on the bed. "Well you should be clear in a day or two; we just need to let you rest for a bit."

Before he left, the doctor took a look at his I.V. drip and his heart monitor. Finally alone, Logan reached for the bag that was next to his bed. He rifled through his belongings until he found his cell phone. Flipping open the phone he began to dial an all too familiar number.

"Logan, where the hell are you? What the hell is going on?"

"I'm in what looks like a hospital but I can't be too sure. I didn't see what the name of the hospital was but I'm pretty sure it's one of Umbrella's."

"Look Logan did they stick you with anything?"

"Um…no but they did use something called Sevoflurane. What is it?"

"That's ok it's just an anesthetic."

"I'm also on a drip. And I don't know what is in it.

"Ok take it out and get out of there."

Logan closed the phone and shut off the heart monitor. Quickly, he pulled out the I.V. and tore off the electrodes. Looking for something to arm himself with, he noticed that his knife was taken from his bag. They must have searched his things before they admitted him. Logan cursed himself for being so careless in the first place and rummaged through the room looking for anything that might help him in his escape.

He stopped briefly in front of a mirror and took stock in his appearance. It wasn't very attractive at the moment because he had a plethora of stitches next to his right pectoral. Logan bent closer to the mirror and pulled down his lower eye lids to see if his eyes were reddened. Luckily they weren't and instead they were just his natural brown color. Next he pushed his dark brown (almost black) hair back and let it fall back into position. At the moment it was more of a mopy style than anything else. He almost let out a chuckle at how bad he really looked. He wasn't in bad shape either (if he'd say so himself).

Stepping away from the mirror he realized that it wasn't the time for that and continued his search for any object of use to him. Nothing of use was in the room except needles, but he wasn't willing to kill anyone in cold blood so he left them be. Moving swiftly to the door he looked out the small window embedded in the door, looking for any signs of movement. Seeing none he crouched down low to the ground grasping the handle of the door. Slowly he slid the door open looking through to see the hall again. Once again not seeing any movement, he opened the door a little more so he could shimmy through.

The corridor was in fact empty. Quite odd for a hospital he though. Nevertheless, Logan made his way down the hall towards a crossroad. Hearing footsteps echoing down the hall behind him he ducked into the first door he came upon. Logan found himself in a vesting room full of unused lab coats. He found himself saying "Oh well that was simple."

After slipping on a lab coat, Logan pressed his ear against the door listening intently for those footsteps again. He realized that the footsteps were headed towards his room. His heart froze waiting to hear someone screaming and then the blare of a siren. But nothing of the sort came, and he was sure that they were not headed towards his room. Once he was certain they were gone he shimmied through an opening he created in the door and was out into the hall again.

Still listening intently, Logan proceeded down the hall with no more interruptions. He found himself at the crossroads and looked down each of the corridors leading to the intersection. Nothing was in any direction. Logan began to have the feeling that there was more to this hospital than he thought. From what he could see each of the halls had no doors what so ever and if they did they weren't noticeable.

Shrugging off his suspicions for now he headed down the hall to his left and passed by an empty reception desk. In one swift move he hopped over the desk and turned about to face the hall. He began to search through the papers to find out what kind of hospital this really was. Every single paper was blank. No patient records, no room numbers, no doctor's names, nothing. It looked as if this hospital wasn't actually here. Logan shuddered at the thought of what they could have done to him had he not gotten out when he did. As he pulled open drawers he took some scissors that he found laying in the middle drawer.

Once he was satisfied, Logan pushed the drawers back in and put the papers back hap hazardously, before jogging off towards the stairs. Soon enough Logan found himself at the stairs and without wasting time he was already starting down them…..