DISCLAIMER: I don't own Resident Evil, but all original characters and the city/island of Cauman are my creations. I hope you enjoy it.

With a groan, Jason Deacon opened his eyes to see an airplane stewardess standing over him, poised to shake him awake.

"The plane will be landing shortly, sir," she said. Jason smiled weakly, and nodded his thanks. The stewardess smiled and moved to wake up the other passengers. Jason straightened himself in the uncomfortable seat, massaging his lower back to work the stiffness out of it. Damn, he thought. You'd think that a company willing to spend $2000 per person to test a stupid game could at least put us on a half-decent plane. He glanced around the interior of the plane, surveying the other passengers. Including him, there were an even number of men and women, and they all looked to be the same age as him, about 19. At the front of the plane, through a small window in the door to the cockpit, he could see the flight crew, lightly conversing. The other passengers of the plane were almost completely silent, save for a few who were either talking to themselves in hushed tones or silently singing along to music that only they could hear, Jason couldn't be sure which. Turning his head towards the back of the plane, he could see a pair of men in slick, matching black suits sitting in a far corner, a set of briefcases resting on their laps, two on each. Black sunglasses covered the visages of both, preventing Jason from getting a read on them by their facial expressions. The identities of these two men was a curiosity that would not be satisfied at that moment, however, as he could feel the cabin rumble slightly as the small aircraft begin it's descent through the midafternoon sky.

Looking out the window, he could see a small, crudely paved airstrip surrounded by a large forest. It certainly appeared that they had been taken to an isolated island in the middle of nowhere. Shaking his head in amusement, he stood up, removed his duffel bag from the overhead compartment and filed off of the plane with the rest of the passengers, taking the opportunity to get a tactical view of the other people who would be participating in the game. From the looks of them, most of the others seemed to be up to the physical challenge they would surely face, but there were a few that, for lack of a better term, looked like weaklings. As the lineup moved slowly up the aisle and through the hatch leading outside, Jason noted that the two suits had not risen from their seats. In fact, neither of them were moving at all, save for one of them tilting his head to speak to the other, his words being spoken so softly that only they could hear. Jason's eyebrows rose slightly, but he turned his attention from them and stepped through the hatch, bringing his right forearm in front of his eyes to block the sun's bright beams, and tightening his grip on his duffel bag with his left hand.

Once everyone was gathered off to the side of the runway, the two men sitting at the back of the plane stood up, briefcases in hand, and exited the craft. They walked at an even pace, with purpose, towards the assembled group. As they walked, a loud sputtering sound could be heard, as the plane's engine turned over, the propeller beginning to rotate, slowly at first, but picking up speed as the seconds passed. By the time the men had reached the group, the plane had turned around and begun to speed down the runway. As the craft rose into the air, the suits stopped in front of the gathered teens, lightly placing the briefcases on the dusty ground. One of the men brushed dust off of his suit and began to address the teens.

"Welcome, all of you, to the island of Cauman. We've been assigned by our superiors to welcome you to this...experiment. Allow me to outline the rules: you will be divided into four groups of five people each. Each group will begin at a different starting point within the city located throughout this island. When the game begins, you will be competing with the other three teams, as well as the many obstacles we have strewn throughout the island. The first team to make it to the police station in the centre of the city will win the game, and each member of the winning team will receive an additional $1000, in addition to the $2000 promised to all of you in the contracts you signed." The second man took off his sunglasses, placed them in his right breast pocket and clasped his hands together behind his back.

"If any of you have ever played paintball, the strategies to use will be very similar." He nodded to his associate, who bent over and unclasped one of the briefcases sitting on the ground in front of him, revealing five shiny silver handguns, with black finish. "These are the weapons you will be using," he said, holding up one of the handguns up for all to see. "This is a Beretta M92 FS. It's a standard 9mm semi-automatic handgun: fairly lightweight, and easy to reload. Each of you will start with this gun, and fifteen bullets." The man ejected the magazine from the gun in his hand, holding it up so that the teens could see. After giving them a few moments to look at it, he exchanged it for a clip inside his inner jacket pocket, slammed it into the gun, and fired a shot at the ground. A red blot of paint, about the size of a small ball bearing, appeared on the ground. "These bullets will not harm you," the first suit continued, pulling a single bullet from his pocket to show the group. "The jackets, or casings, of these bullets, while filled with gunpowder liketraditional bullets, are filled with the same substance found in ordinary paintball pellets, rather than a piece of lead. You will be able to find additional bullets and supplies throughout the city, but the backpacks you will receive before the game begins only have a limited amount of space, so choose the supplies you decide to carry with you wisely." The second man placed the safety back on the gun in his hand and returned it to the briefcase, closing it securely before reaching into one of the inside pockets of his jacket to pulled out a slip of paper. He handed the paper to his colleague, who took it and unfolded it.

"Of the twenty passengers on the plane, we have randomly selected the members of each team and their starting location. I will now read out the names of the four team captains." Jason was barely paying attention, having nearly dozed off at some point after the plane took off, and was startled when his name was read out loud, naming him as one of the team captains. Once the teams had been named, the people in the large group began to move towards their respective team captains. Jason's gaze swept slowly over the members of his team, which consisted of two guys and two girls.

The first of the guys, who introduced himself as Joshua Grayson, had a very studious air about him. He had his light brown hair in a mushroom cut, and his dark brown eyes were practically hidden behind a thick pair of glasses. He had on a plain white shirt, brown khaki shorts and striped suspenders. He had a small black case strapped to his back, which Jason assumed contained a laptop computer. In Jason's opinion, Joshua didn't look like he had seen the light of day for a good while, as his skin had a rather pale tinge to it. He nodded slightly, seemingly not interested, as Jason turned to the second guy, who stepped forward and extended his hand, which Jason grasped firmly.

"My name's Tommy Douglas," he said warmly. He had spiky reddish-blond hair, which was a stark contrast to his emerald green eyes, accentuated by high cheekbones and a tapered chin. Wearing a white muscle shirt to show off his highly toned arms, and a pair of black jeans, he looked like someone who was confident about his physical abilities without being overly cocky about them.

Turning to the first of the girls walking towards him, Jason's jaw dropped in surprise. Damn, she's beautiful, he thought to himself. Her fiery red hair bounced against her shoulders as she walked towards him, her blue eyes sparkling with the reflected sunlight. She had on a white t-shirt that cut off half-way down her chest, exposing her midfriff, and a pair of short blue jean-shorts. She stopped in front of him, tilted her head slightly and smiled, extending her hand.

"I'm Rose Richards," she said cheerfully. Jason stood in front of Rose for a long moment without doing anything, before finally picking his jaw up off the ground and shaking the proferred hand..

The other girl, and final member of Jason's team, introduced herself as Kimberly Sharp. She was wearing a powder blue tanktop and blue jeans, with casual running shoes. She appeared to be a nice, normal girl, but, after looking into her eyes, Jason had a feeling that there were hidden depths to her. What those depths were, however, he didn't have the faintest idea.

As the teens began to split off into their respective groups, the two suits walked a few metres away so that they'd be out of the earshot of the teenagers. When they stopped, they looked at each other.

"What's wrong with you?" the second man asked the first. The first man sighed.

"I'm just not sure we should do this. I mean, they're just kids! They don't deserve this...it's not right." The second man growled at his partner's indecisiveness.

"You remember what our orders are. We've been ordered to gather more combat data before the product gets shipped to our overseas client, and that's exactly what we're going to do. The age of our test subjects is irrelevent. Whether young or old, they will help us acquire the data we need. But hey, if you don't want to go through with this, you can go and tell the boss yourself, because I won't be going with you. We have to make sure this job gets done, so we're staying. End of story." The first man took a deep breath.

"You're right, of course. It's just...wait a minute. Did you say 'staying'?"

"Yes, I said we're staying." Seeing the look his partner was giving him, he held up his hand. "It's alright. The only reason the Raccoon City fiasco happened was because that fool Marcus complicated matters. Our operatives will inform us of any progress, giving us plenty of time to prepare for the worst. Besides, the observation building has been re-inforced, and the B.O.W.'s that are being tested were created with the NE-T virus, meaning they're controllable. At any rate, if things get hairy, there's a private helipad in case any of them happen to break in. We have nothing to worry about."

"Alright, but...I still feel like this is wrong."

"It's not our place to question our orders." The second man glanced at the teenagers. "They should be taking this more seriously. This will probably be the last place they ever see."