Raccoon Countryside - Westbound Interstate
September 29th, 1998 8:02 P.M.

Anybody that found themselves traveling down the monotonous expanse of the western interstate would have probably noticed what was happening on the western horizon. Several exhausted drivers would have found themselves distracted by the natural beauty which surrounded the endlessness of the concrete pathway. There were others that could have become hypnotized in watching the majestic twilight as it touched upon the natural world, accenting their wondrous surroundings with that blazing mixture of tropical colors which burned with the furious brilliance of the fiercest inferno. The evergreen wilderness possessed an auspicious presence upon the numerous mountains which crowded out the evening skyline, characteristic of the mid-western countryside. To those fortunate witnesses who admired the absolute brilliance of that moment, the experience would have probably outlasted most greeting cards depicting that same burning sunset.

Within moments those burning flames which painted the western horizon began dwindling and eventually started undergoing another transformation which demanded attention from the onlookers. An uninterested glance could be transformed into an entranced gaze as those tropical colors succumbed to those chilling shades of violet and lavender. Within moments those frosted colors surrendered to the evening shadows, silently pitching the peaceful countryside into the darkness of the evening. It seemed that there would be no silver illumination tonight, that lunar satellite would remain unseen while trapped under the shadow of the Earth. However, it was during this starless darkness that the artificial illumination from the nearby metropolis would become visible to those wayward travelers populating these paved pathways.

Leon Scott Kennedy allowed his left hand to loosely grasp the steering wheel while the other hand reluctantly disengaged the cruise control settings on his simple black jeep. The billowing steam from the nearby coffee cup remained active around his peripheral vision, the small boost from the caffeinated beverage having served to strengthen his awareness against the exhaustion brought about an uneventful journey. The lingering scent of the cheeseburger combo he had consumed around thirty minutes earlier emanated from the crumbled paper bag on the passenger's floorboard, the greasy food having effectively silenced his grumbling stomach. His black traveling pack rested upon the unoccupied passenger's seat, the various supplies packed into his black traveling pack rattling against some meager clothing. The stereo had recently completed another CD and had fallen silent, the rumble of the vehicle's engine and the absent whipping of the passing wind becoming another monotonous soundtrack for the lackluster journey.

The glowing figures from the dashboard played softly across his handsome features as the young traveler casually applied greater acceleration, intentionally pushing the common vehicle around seven miles over the speed limit. Kennedy doubted that anybody would do anything considering the position which awaited him, not to mention that the interstate highway seemed to been completely abandoned. The single exception to this theory was the presence of the transfer truck which had passed him around twenty minutes earlier, heading in the same general direction with some apparent desperation. Somebody would have needed to shatter the marked limitations by twenty miles before anybody considered them necessarily dangerous to themselves or anybody else. Although his perceptions would change sometime later, the motorist figured that there probably wouldn't have been many people commuting between Stoneville and Raccoon City.

Although his overall attention remained upon the streaking asphalt of the endless interstate, this unique individual had discovered himself distracted with the magnificent phenomenon. There was little acknowledgment of his obvious carelessness and little ignorance of his unconscious violations, there was merely the amusement which had spread across his handsome features. The wayward traveler was admiring the same horizon which had been witnessed in countless memories from his childhood and adolescence, having growing up in the countryside and adapted an appreciation for those natural treasures which so many constantly overlooked. The lingering twilight brought back memories of the greatest friends and worthwhile experiences, those building blocks which had formed an unyielding foundation on which his existence was now being constructed. In that moment, Leon Kennedy actually found himself regretful that almost three years had passed without managing to witness this wondrous occurrence.

Three years had passed following his uncomfortable movement to the inner city and his essential disconnection from the natural world from which he had carried himself. The starlight and moonlight remained unseen amongst the dominating glow of the florescent lighting and flashing neon which dominated the inner city. The chirping of the crickets and the tweeting of the songbirds remained unheard amongst the gridlocked traffic and chattering populace. In the three years which had passed following high school graduation, his occasional return to the countryside was distraught with anxiousness and exhaustion. Those amongst friends and classmates had their own reasons for leaving their hometown and rushing into the nearest metropolis. There were some that wanted to pursue higher education and others whom sought employments to discover their position within the working world, this unique individual actually considered his reasons much more interesting.

It was within the last thirty-six months that Leon Scott Kennedy found himself constantly surpassing the challenging expectations of one of the country's most extreme police academies. Having possessed aspirations towards something greater than standard patrol and officer work, the ambitious individual pushed forward and eventually found himself under advanced training and additional instruction. His steadfast determination awarded several recommendations and shattered records, inevitably surpassing those held by his father and grandfather. Immediately following the academy graduation, these promising graduates began receiving invitations from various police departments across the nation. His natural talents and polished abilities could have carried him almost anywhere, but he had settled upon the growing metropolis of Raccoon City.

The Raccoon Police Department currently required additional officers to compensate for the constant growth of the mid-western town, all of which had been made possible by the support and funding of the Umbrella Corporation. There was little question that whenever the industrial complex of most settlements started increasing, there would inevitably be an increased amount of crime amongst the greater population. The desperate department had responded in recent months by recruiting more officers and establishing police substations around the growing metropolis. The police department was also attempting to recruit promising young officers into their newly established Select Police Force, which would eventually begin fulfilling the former responsibilities of their defunct predecessor. The mid-western metropolis would eventually become an impressive landmark nationwide and seemed to have been the most logical choice for the rookie officer, especially considering that he was somewhat familiar with the surrounding countryside.

Officer Kennedy glanced towards the digital clock without much concern, he wouldn't be officially integrated into the department until the next morning and was currently looking forward to stepping into his recently procured apartment. His modest furniture and necessary belongings should have been delivered to his working-class studio apartment earlier that morning, so he was prepared to start unpacking. The apartment complex was constructed on the corner of Woodbine and Chumleigh, located within walking distance of several restaurants and smaller stores. His newfound residence would place him around two blocks from the nearby park and the adjacent hospital, although he hoped the latter convenience wouldn't become necessary. The modest apartment complex also possessed the quality of being around five minutes from the police department, which came as an incredible selling point following three years of battling relentless traffic. The young officer's quaint apartment seemed perfect enough, but there was one rather morbid factor which would probably cause some uneasiness amongst his would-be neighbors. The modest apartment was uncomfortably close to where three of those murder victims had been discovered, those same cannibal murders which had plagued the suburban neighborhoods in recent months.

Officer Kennedy couldn't maintain that same positive attitude upon remembering those violent crimes which had threatened to shatter the steadfast foundations of the growing metropolis. The young officer's grasp twisted around the steering wheel as an aggressive nature suddenly manifested within him, several unprofessional emotions threatening his impressive constitution in the slightest fleeting moment. Leon had possessed disillusions from early childhood that the mid-western town would be an innocent paradise where something so incredibly terrible shouldn't have happened. Such blatant ignorance was vanquished upon learning that those same cannibal murders from recent months had resurfaced around the time of his assignment to the department. Sixteen civilians had been claimed overall and the department had lost six investigating officers who had mysteriously vanished following some mishandled investigation. These psychopaths were foolish enough to attack police officers and continued preying upon the innocent civilians, those whom he would be working with.

"Goddamn it." Kennedy grumbled upon collecting himself, immediately realizing the unabashed foolishness of becoming worked up over something which cannot possibly be changed. His increased heartbeat and tightened muscles settled themselves following several deep breaths, mentally demanding those troublesome emotions into submission. His grasping fingers flexed slightly around the steering wheel as the black jeep leaned into the shoulder and eventually stopped, having been pushing ninety just moments earlier. The rookie officer groaned slightly in that moment, running one hand through brownish-blonde strands before turning his exhausted sapphire pupils towards the nearby billboard which announced his destination was barely three miles down the interstate.

"Welcome to Raccoon City." the rookie officer chuckled bitterly, casually leaning backwards against the driver's seat and retrieving whatever remained of the steaming coffee. The caffeinated beverage rushed down the back of his parched throat and demanded greater awareness concerning his immediate surroundings and heartfelt conflicts. Becoming aggressive and headstrong concerning these cannibal murders wouldn't establish much reliance amongst his fellow officers and certainly wouldn't bring him closer to their newest established tactical response group. Several moments passed without incident as the rookie officer composed himself and restarted the engine and proceeded his journey down the monotonous interstate.

In that moment, Leon Scott Kennedy resolved himself to remain positive about the newfound apartment and promising career which awaited him within the growing metropolis. Several of his academy instructors had annually praised his polished competence, steadfast dedication and impressive insight regarding the nature of his potentially dangerous career. He understood himself as an average young man who was considered easygoing, sociable and understanding by honest acquaintances, this combined with his relatively handsome appearance promised an existence beyond the department. The rookie officer resolved himself to the understanding that the next morning would begin building the foundation for the remainder of his life, so he considered himself more than prepared to confront whatever would come against him.


Raccoon Countryside - Eastbound Interstate
September 29th, 1998 8:08 P.M.

Meanwhile, there was another individual heading for the same destination as the rookie officer, although this second wayward traveler was traveling in the opposite direction, approaching the growing metropolis from the eastbound interstate. The rumbling motorcycle seemed rather inappropriate for long distance travel, but decisive individuals cannot be expected to make arrangements for their impulsive decisions. This second traveler couldn't notice the majestic twilight without glancing into the rearview mirrors which straddled the heavy motorcycle's handlebars, but the wondrous happening remained just as beautiful upon the western horizon. Meanwhile, the eastern horizon was becoming eclipsed by those evening shadows and indicating that within moments the entire countryside would be pitched into starless darkness.

Claire Redfield might have appreciated the magnificent twilight had she not been experiencing complete exhaustion in that moment, having become physical spent from balancing and steering the heavy motorcycle and mentally winded from the potential paranoia which had been torturing her. The college student was beginning to question herself for refusing to borrow her roommate's car, the rumbling vibration of her beloved motorcycle having become much less tolerable following almost four hours of seamless travel. Having recently passed through another state and several counties, she found herself relieved that her impulsive journey would be concluded within the next fifteen minutes. It would probably be another hour before she managed to obtain the answers she was looking for, but removing her bruised and overheated butt from the rumbling motorcycle would be more than welcome.

As another random billboard buzzed appeared in her headlight and disappeared behind her, she was asking herself the same damn question, wondering once more whether she was being naturally concerned or ridiculously paranoid of her present situation. Her numerous classmates would have probably insisted that she should have possessed enough concerns for herself and two other people. There would be another statistics examination sometime within the next three classes and the young woman couldn't afford missing one of these important test grades, never mind the several workbook assignments that would be collected the next afternoon. Claire Redfield was also prepared to accept whatever frustration her employer would be leaving on her answering machine, especially considered that she was supposed to be working this evening. While being penalized for delayed performance and being terminated from customer service might have absolutely terrified most college students, Claire Redfield couldn't have cared less about her general classes or her lesser position at one of the smaller motorcycle dealership. There was something much more important that garnered her undivided attention.

"Chris..." she whispered behind her helmet as her motorcycle barreled down the interstate, her polished instincts maintaining the balance and performance as she rounded another corner. Claire was worried about her older brother, that same person who had selflessly sacrificed so much to provide his little sister an easier existence following the airplane accident which claimed their beloved parents three years earlier. Their immediate inheritance was nothing impressive, but her older brother had managed these parental assets well enough to ensure that she wouldn't suffer through foster care. She was currently enrolled in her second college year and remained confident that she would definitely be somewhere in five years, although she held gratitude toward her scholarships, she realized she wouldn't be anywhere without her brother's support. Everybody confronted difficult challenges and would pursue assistance from several sources, but when it came down to simple survival, they only needed one another.

Claire wouldn't have normally been concerned, understanding the extensive responsibilities which came with law enforcement and her brother naturally understood his little sisters own demanding college schedule. Considering the three hundred miles which usually separated the beloved siblings, their individual locations and opposing lifestyles usually keep them isolated from one another with the exception of the occasional holiday and planned reunions. Due to this considerable distance and unbendable schedules, their primary means of communication usually had become the exchange of written letters between one another. The sociable siblings usually participated in bi-monthly telephone conversations, although this was much less common due to relentless penalties associated with long distance calling and their habitual nature of chattering about absolutely nothing for several hours. Their archaic communication system seemed to have been working without problems for almost two years, but was suddenly broken around four weeks earlier and following recent developments she discovered further reason to be concerned about her older brother.

The younger sister understood that her brother's tactical response service had been removed from the investigation concerning those cannibal murders, the majority of the country probably understood the horrible situation that was gripping the citizens of Raccoon City. Even while her older brother was participating in the investigation, such matters remained outside their annual conversations and the siblings focused upon everything else. She became interested following the group's unsuccessful operation in the nearby woodlands, but her older brother refused to discuss the traumatic experiences and demanded her to focus her attention elsewhere. The siblings continued exchanging letters, but his responses became much shorter and totally uninspired, unconsciously displaying that there was something he wanted to write down, but found himself conflicted about doing so. Claire mentioned this theory in one of her recent letters and Chris's response was requesting that his younger sister not worry herself about it.

Almost four weeks had passed without another letter from her brother, not even the slightest response to those seven which she had been written and mailed within days of one another. Several desperate telephone calls remained unanswered and his answering machine had apparently been deactivated for some unknown reason, her older brother wasn't even answering his cellular phone, which was constantly carried in the event of an unforseen emergency. Claire attempted to concentrate on her schoolwork and employment, eventually attempting to convince herself that her brother might have gotten himself a girlfriend or that he had his compatriots on assignment somewhere. Then she learned something earlier that morning which completely shocked the young woman and planted the foundation for the reckless decision to travel three hundred miles to investigate the whereabouts of her older brother.

Chris Redfield's specialized operations unit had been completely dissolved for almost an entire month and the former officers had been reassigned to other departments, several of these officers having apparently surrendered their badges and abandoned the department altogether. There was also some recently established group that was being mobilized to handle whatever assignments would have once fallen the defunct tactical response unit. Claire Redfield became suspicious, understanding that being terminated from his admirable position wouldn't have been comfortable, but it would prevent her older brother from maintaining contact with his younger sister. Claire's suspicions continued growing and immediately following her last afternoon class, she returned to her apartment and began going down their mutual acquaintances in her address book, which confront her with several unexplained circumstances.

Her brother's phone seemed to have been completely disconnected alongside almost everybody else who happened to be living in the same apartment building. Claire then attempted to contact her positive acquaintance and her brother's teammate, Barry Burton, from which her efforts were rewarded with another disconnection at the career officer's residence. The college student called several more numbers belonging to her brother's work associates, unfamiliar names and numbers and somehow she continued getting disconnections and the occasional overloaded answering machine. The desperate young woman then attempted to phone the police department, her impatience becoming apparent as she was confronted with another disconnection and the sheerest limits of her strained patience. Within fifteen minutes the college student had removed her motorcycle from the university's garage and was rocketing down the interstate highway, bound for the growing metropolis of Raccoon City.

Several realizations of her own foolishness would surface around halfway through her unexpected journey, when she realized her overall possessions consisted of her secondhand motorcycle helmet and the survival knife she usually carried for self-defense. The college student never bothered packing her traveling pack, essentially leaving her stranded with whatever she could procure with the two hundred dollars she was currently carrying. The impulsive teenager also realized she had completely forgotten the protective leathers, which should have been standard for anybody straddling a motorcycle. She realized that she should have been smarter, especially following the countless lectures from her brother describing the horrible injuries which could be sustained by having an accident without the protective covering.

Claire Redfield naturally understood that her professors and employers probably wouldn't sympathize with the college student dropping everything to recklessly travel three hundred miles because her older brother and several others were experiencing difficulties with their phonelines. The classmates and work associates would have probably considered her paranoid for . In questioning her sudden decision, they proved themselves incapable of understanding where she was coming from, proved themselves incapable of appreciating her desperate situation. These orphaned siblings possessed no relatives or kinships that remained among the living and had somehow managed to survive through one another for the longest time. She wasn't prepared to continue living without her brother standing behind her and wouldn't have another moment's peace without knowing whether or not something was happening.

Claire Redfield had been extremely suspicious following her unsuccessful attempts to contact her older brother and their mutual acquaintances. The reckless woman might have been capable of believing in communication troubles, but when nobody within an entire district was answering their telephones, she believed herself justified in being concerned for her older brother.

The decisive motorcyclist glanced towards another passing billboard, smirking somewhat at the announcement that the mid-western town would be appearing within the next several minutes. Not exactly willing to continue lingering upon the monotonous interstate, she applied greater pressure to the powerful motorcycle's acceleration and barreled down the highway. Regardless of the potential consequences, the younger sister would maintain her steadfast determination in uncovering exactly what was happening and discovering where her last remaining relative could have possibly vanished. Should her arrival become greeted with the realization that nothing was happening and her unannounced appearance was unnecessary, she could endure her beloved brother's frustration over her reckless impulses.

Something seemed to have been happening in Raccoon City, the considerable evidence would have supported such outlandish suggestions, the one thing which remained for certain was that she would discover these answers soon enough.


Author's Commentary: Whew. This has doubtlessly been the most frustrating opening I've ever written, having battled with the overall expressionism and personal scenarios of the main characters before accidentally erasing the flash drive it had saved it on. I haven't exactly planning on saying much regarding this chapter besides attempting to convince everybody that the main character's should be changed much, but their overall presentation might be different in my novelization. At the moment, the most notable alteration is probably going to be Leon Kennedy's issued police uniform, which the newcomer probably wouldn't be wearing because he wouldn't be officially integrated into the police department until the next morning. Although not currently finalized, his recreated appearance is probably going follow his attire from Resident Evil 4, although remaining civilian clothing instead of having underground mercenary appearance. I'm currently undecided about somehow involving perception from some of the other important characters, showing what might have happened beyond what happens during gameplay?

Your reviews are necessary to inspire me further.
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