It had only been a few minutes since the sun had gone down and silence had fallen over the dead city. Everything including the wind had stopped it seemed, terrified by the creatures that would soon make their appearances. Despite their rotting states, the zombies seemed to be aware of the sun's intense rays on their bodies. Driven by whatever remained of their humanity or their viral instinct – it made no difference – they would seek shelter from the late summer sun, and come out again at night in search for prey. And the population of said prey was slowly dwindling.

The night was still. Not a branch shook. The only movement was the crackling of fires that had sprung up in various parts of the city, none of the Raccoon Fire Department left to put them out. Water towers, a common feature of a mid-Western town such as this, had all nearly been toppled or drained. Only the empty shells of buildings stood tall now, completely gutted, ransacked, and filled with the rotting corpses of people too decomposed, too devoured to live out their afterlives as zombies.

The few souls left in Raccoon City waited for the nightmare to begin again. With the military driven quarantine that the city had been put under, they could only survive day at a time and wonder when their end would come. Nobody was coming in to help them. Nobody was getting out.

XXXXX

Carlos Oliveira looked at the unconscious, sultry form of Jill Valentine lying before him at a church altar, like some kind of a female sacrifice. Candles were lined on either side of her, providing a warm, healthy glow to her skin and the surrounding area. It was an illusion. She was actually pale, having been struck in the arm by some viral tentacle, belonging to the strangest creature he'd ever seen. It looked as if its skin had melted off its body, having no lips to cover its skeletal grin. It had been dressed in a large trench coat that could've easily provided a blanket for Jill and Carlos combined.

Jill had nicknamed the creature "Nemesis" but whether or not that was its actual name that she was referring to it as, he had no idea. All he understood at the present moment was finding a cure for his friend, and perhaps his only chance at escaping the city alive. It was officially night for Raccoon City, when the hunt for the remaining human survivors would begin again. But Carlos was not going to sit down in this church and wait for him and Jill to be found and eaten. He was going to find a cure for whatever it was she had inside of her, whatever that creature, the Nemesis had injected her with.

A sudden, loud bang cause Carlos to jerk his head skyward. There was no mistaking the sound of thunder. It was going to rain very soon, as if God himself wanted to wash away the intoxicating stench of death from Raccoon. But not even the Almighty could save the city from its fate. Carlos didn't know what he was thinking when he cocked his handgun, ready to fight off any zombie infiltration that the clock tower might experience. When he was going to get the anti-virus for Jill, he didn't know. The hospital was just behind the building, not more than a block's worth of a walk.

This time it was the crashing sound of breaking glass that caught his attention, just outside the mini chapel built into the church where he and Jill had taken shelter. The zombies were finally in. And after a day of mental and physical preparation and two days struggling to suppress his hunger and thirst, Carlos was finally ready for them.

XXXXX

"I'm on my way." Claire Redfield shut off her walkie-talkie and stared blankly ahead, at the gaping hole in the fence. It was far too small for her to fit through but not for a child as small as Sherry. Claire's heart ached for the twelve year old girl, lost and all alone in this maze of a city, with strange creatures crawling around at every corner.

Sherry had explained to Claire in frightening detail the skinless creatures with dagger-like claws and flexible tongues. Normally, she would've passed off such renditions as figments of the child's imagination, had she not actually seen the monsters for herself. But when Sherry told Claire of a giant zombie with a large eye growing out of its arm, she was downright terrified. Sherry had come across as an honest little girl, and based on the descriptions of the monster she related, there was no way she could've been lying about this monster.

"Daddy must've been attacked by the monster!" Sherry had said before scurrying off through the hole in the fence. "I have to help him." But what was she planning to do? Kick the monster in the shins? Claire had no idea, but she hoped and prayed that perhaps Sherry was small enough for such a monster to not take notice, though her instincts told her that the little girl had next to no chance.

Claire wanted to cry. Sherry had returned to her and it had barely been five minutes since the little girl had run off. But there was no way Sherry could've reached the hole again, based on the three meter drop that she'd fallen. But Sherry, in an amazing display of bravery told Claire that she'd find another way around and catch up with her.

"And here I'm the one fighting back tears," Claire told herself mentally. "Now who's being the twelve year old?"

Claire wasn't any good at fighting her emotions, she knew as much. That's because being a tomboy her whole life, having an older brother watching over her since they were kids, she never had much to fear or to cry about. And here she was pouring her concern out over a child she'd barely known for more than a few hours.

She tried to move from where she stood, where she last saw Sherry standing before her, hoping that perhaps the little girl would come back and she'd find a way to pull her back through the hole. But after a few agitated moments of waiting, Claire decided Sherry probably wasn't going to come back. The way she said she'd find another way – there was determination in her voice. Sure, it was a child's voice, but children were usually the most honest, most determined people she'd ever known, their will completely untouched by the harsh realities of life.

Besides, Leon had just summoned her via the walkie-talkie, ordering her to meet him in the sewers. That meant she had to leave the warm, bright police precinct. Alone in the warm, bright precinct, or together with Leon in the cold, damp sewers? Claire realized she longed for human companionship now more than anything in this dying place. She didn't feel good leaving Sherry to fend for herself, but there was no choice.

"Please be safe, girl," Claire mumbled under her breath as she turned around and headed for the steel ladder that would eventually lead back up to the main floor of the police station, and the sewers where God knew what waited for her.

XXXXX

"Oh, please do not be alarmed," a mustached doctor said, raising his hands in the air. The eight survivors had clearly been caught off guard, with the good doctor George Hamilton keeping the waitress Cindy, and Yoko backed up against the wall with his back protectively to them. The RPD's own Kevin Ryman formed a protective ring around the three of them with the assistance of David King the plumber, Mark Wilkins a security guard, Alyssa Ashcroft of the Raccoon Times, and Jim Chapman of Raccoon's transportation systems. The five each had a gun aimed at the intruding doctor who they mistakenly assumed was a zombie at first glance.

"What the hell," Alyssa breathed under her breath, a sigh of relief.

"I'm a doctor in this hospital," the man continued, though George needed no reintroduction to his co-worker. "I must say that this hospital is not an idea place to take shelter, despite how safe it may look or sound. I myself have decided to get out of here as soon as possible." Without saying another word, he left the room, as if leave the survivors to contemplate on his words.

Alyssa turned to George. "A friend of yours?" she asked.

George nodded. "Dr. Hursch is … ah … very blunt," he explained. "He's not the kind to listen to other people, though he expects them to listen to him."

"Charming fellow," Kevin added sarcastically. "So, crew. Let's book it outta here."

"Man, I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Jim piped up. He'd been quiet the whole night until now. "Just think about what's crawling around out there."

"And then think about what's crawling around in here," Alyssa added. "I'd take my chances with those rotting deformities out on the streets than in a confined building like this."

"Well maybe I wanna …" But Jim couldn't finish his sentence, as he was interrupted by a resounding crash somewhere close by on the same floor. It was as if someone had bashed a metal plate onto the hard ceramic floor. "What in the world …?"

"You think the good old Dr. Hursch could make a sound like that?" Alyssa asked George half jokingly, as George shook his head gravely.

"There's something here with us," he whispered hoarsely.

"Alright then, crew," Kevin said, withdrawing his handgun, as he and Mark moved into positions, flanking the group with Alyssa leading the way. "Time to get moving." As they left the room not one of the eight survivors could deny hearing something ever so faint, but completely noticeable, a sound like a pair of wet, puckered lips sucking on something cold and hard …

XXXXX

Leon swallowed the growing lump in his throat, devoid of all moisture now from the air of intensity around him. He stood in front of a large, heavy duty metal door - so heavy that instead of a simple knob, there was what resembled a valve handle with which to open it. It looked as if it were meant for air pressure stability, but whether for the room in which he currently stood or whatever lay beyond it, he didn't know. All he understood was that it led deeper into the sewers.

Leon wiped the sweat from his brown with one hand, the other holding on so tightly to his handgun that he had to make a mental effort not to squeeze too hard and activate the trigger, and refrain from literally shooting himself in the foot. The police station was creepy indeed, the large space completely void of all life, his footsteps echoing thunderously off the stone walls and floor with no other sound to drown it out. But he felt safe in this large, warm, brick building - nevermind the fact that zombies had stormed the precinct just hours ago and ate everyone alive. It was sure as hell more appealing than trudging through sewer water.

But Leon also realized that if he wanted out of this city, he'd have to go this way. And Ada ... that beautiful, mysterious Asian woman in the red cocktail dress ... he worried about her. She was just an innocent civilian caught up in the mess that was Raccoon City. The woman seemed confident that she could take care of herself, but she was so fragile looking, even with her handgun by her side. She'd been pretty stubborn too, running off and away from Leon's protection. Where she got this confidence, he didn't know. Actually, he didn't even know her that well. But his duty to protect her as a police officer was absolute. There was no questioning that, especially in a scenario like the one they were in.

Ada said she was heading towards the sewers - and that made sense. If they were going to escape this city of death, the sewers were a better route that roaming the upper streets which were no doubt crawling with the undead by now. In a desparate attempt to catch up with her, Leon brashly headed for the sewer entrance through a manhole built into the precinct floor in the dog kennels. Not wanting to leave Claire behind, he contacted her via the walkie talkie and practically ordered the poor, scared teenager to follow.

Leon sighed. He understood that Claire must've been scared. He only had two years on her, and wasn't much more experienced in life himself. And even before entering the sewers, was already shaking in his combat boots.

"Just suck it up and move on, Kennedy," he told himself as he grabbed the valve handle with both hands and began to turn it, the high pitched squeal of metal on metal filling the air. When the handle stopped turning with a metallic grunt, he pushed against the door, grunting with effort as the stench of human waste and the sound of rushing water assaulted his senses. Now he understood what the door was trying to keep out.

Upon his entrance, the ceiling began to crack, showering bits of dust and rock down into the water below the steel platform that the door led to. Something fell through ...