Leon Kennedy opened the door to Room 7 at the Sunnydale Inn, stepped inside with his bags, and shut the door behind him. Locked it. He flipped on the light, and looked at his surroundings. Yes, this is a motel room, alright, he thought. The room looked like it had been ordered from a catalog – we'll take 10 of motel room style 6 in the beige, please. In fact, the only thing that didn't appear to be motel room standard issue was the crucifix by the doorway. Interesting, that. Leon shrugged. Maybe the owner was devout.
He put his two bags on the bed. He opened the smaller bag, which contained his clothes and personal effects. Everything was neatly folded, just like they taught in the Academy. Now it was all taken out and neatly hung in the closet or placed neatly next to the bathroom sink. There was one pair of khakis and a single white button-down shirt. The rest of the clothes consisted of a couple pairs of sturdily made jeans, a few t-shirts, and a pair of camo pants. Well-worn combat boots shared the floor of the closet with a pair of dress shoes and a pair of sneakers.
If a stranger were to look in this closet, they wouldn't immediately guess that Leon was a reporter. Of course, he wasn't a reporter, but it was a ruse that would serve him well enough. Despite the blond girl's assertion that Sunnydale had some kind of criminal element, it didn't seem like the kind of place where people were hardened and suspicious. No, in fact, it seemed like a real friendly place. Just look at how that girl had offered to help him when she thought he was lost.
From what little he had learned of Sunnydale so far, it seemed to be the sort of place Leon had hoped to be working in when he had taken a job as a police officer in Raccoon City. He hadn't had the chance to realize that dream, however. Instead, what he had experienced there had changed his life, and not in a good way. Before showing up for his first day of work in Raccoon City, he had been the kind of guy who believed in the good in people. An unusual trait for a policeman, and one other trainees at the Academy had razzed him about. That wasn't the kind of man he was anymore, though. Leon doubted anyone could believe in anything, if they knew what he knew.
He hoped, by coming here, he could prevent what had happened in Raccoon City from happening in Sunnydale. This little town didn't deserve to experience the kind of unspeakable horror that he knew existed. Leon might not ever – truly – recover from his experience, but he still believed there should be places where people could live without the ever-present awareness of… evil.
Leon paused in his unpacking for a moment, and closed his eyes, reflecting. He opened them. He bent down to open his other bag. Reaching inside, he took out his Desert Eagle .50AE and carefully placed the "hand cannon" on the bedside table. He next took out his Remington 12-gauge shotgun. He loaded it with eight rounds and pumped it.
Holding the big gun, he felt safe. And he felt ready.
Ready to take down Umbrella.