Chapter 2

When the young woman walked inside the police station- which she noticed the doors opened right up, no locks kept her out- she saw nothing.

No one.

Not a single person living or non-living.

That was even scarier in her opinion. Was the whole station empty? She knew it was a large building, she had been through it a few occasions with Chris.

Dried blood was splashed all over the floor. It seemed to coat everything, even the fountain that was in the main hall.

Why did she even come to this damn place? It was probably the most dangerous place in the city

"Leon and Chris are so gonna pay for this..." mumbled the young auburn-haird girl. She was going to get them so good. Would it be torture? Shot in the leg? Whatever it was, it couldn't possibly overcome this horrible experience. She was in a dead city, a necropolis, and she had no idea if she was even going to survive.

The floor was made of large slabs of stone grouted together. Claire had to watch her step when she was walking on the patches of blood. It was slick and she didn't want to fall and break her neck.

She made her way to the large set of double doors off to the left. Her trembling hand grabbed one of the two handles, letting her other hand keep a firm grip on her gun; her life line.

Claire didn't know if it was bad or good, but as she turned the handle, there was a loud click, signifying that the doors were locked. She still took a long sigh of relief, she didn't know what was behind those doors. Her body, as if on it's own, made it's way to the next door which was farther down.

The brunette's eyes caught something out of the corner of her eye. Around the large wooden circulation desk, there was a little orange box of handgun bullets.

Thank you, God!

She made her way over and snatched up the tiny container, as i f it were suddenly going to disappear. Too bad it wasn't already reloaded clips, that would have made her life easier. Her eyes grazed her surroundings and saw that the computer terminal was still up and running. She felt her lower teeth tugging on the bottom of her lip, showing how really nervous she was.

The clip of her gun was nearly empty, needing refilling, but she needed to know what was going on. Her bow gun was also empty, leaving her with little options.

Claire checked under the desks to see if anything was under them, and after they were deemed clear, she sat down on the chair in front of the terminal.

The youngest Redfield's hands started to go through the papers and files that were scattered all over the desk. She thought if she could find anything, that would be better than nothing.

There was a large typewriter next to her on the left, still loaded with clean paper and a fresh tin of ink ribbon beside it. The black keys had their signs of wear and tear from over the years, even most of the letters were worn off from the constant use of it.

A small smile crept on Claire's face for some reason, it made her think of when she was a child with Chris. He and her would always ask their mom if they could play with the typewriter. They'd spend hours writing 'I love you', 'Chris rules, Claire drools', 'Claire loves Freddie', whatever they could think of, really. It was always a fun time when their mother let them play with the old typewriter.

Claire's fingers grazed the old keys and started to type, letting some of her last words roam free on a sheet of paper:

Claire Redfield was here, and she's going to try to survive in Hell.

Also... Claire rules, and Chris drools.

Just sayin'.

She left the sheet of paper were is was in the crank of the typewriter and then rolled back in the chair to the computer terminal where she was trying to figure out what to do next.

With a few clack of the keys on the computer, which were not so similar to the keys of a typewriter, she figured out that she had to find a blue keycard to unlock the other doors,

"Wonderful. Just how am I going to find a key card in the place?" with a frustrated sigh she rested her forehead against the wood of the desk. What she would give to be back in her dorm and listening to Freddie Mercury's voice, his singing always calmed her down. It made her feel better and think everything was going to be ok.

The pink jacket that she wore, was based off the Queen song, 'Made in Heaven', but the record was released 1995, four years after the late death of the band's singer. But she and her brother made their biker jackets in his memory a year ago. His singing helped them get through all of their problems, including their parents deaths. But when he died back in 1991, it was like the Earth stood still. Everything seemed off the wall and impossible.

Of course everything died in it's life time, but why him? Why their parents? Was Chris dead too? Would she die tonight? What about Leon? Everything about life and death was just one big unanswered question, a vortex of mystery that would always be unknown.

Claire looked back over towards the sheet of paper she had just written on, its words seemed to burn into her eyes, making her never forget- She was going to survive a night in Hell. She would live on giving the best damn fight she could.

And if not, she would have a legacy, much like Freddie, and no one would ever forget the name: Claire Redfield.

A small sound from the room adjacent to the desk emitted and echoed in the hall. It sent shivers down her spine and through her whole aching body.

Maybe one room was still unlocked? Wait, maybe it's Leon? Or Chris!

The youngest Redfield slowly moved up from her seat, her legs burning and screaming at her to sit back down for a little while longer. But she couldn't; if she sat, that was more time going to waste that she didn't have.

Her hand reached for the door knob, but this time, it turned smoothly and let the door open.

The desks and chairs were drenched in blood, coating everything the eye could see with the red liquid.

A weak groan filled the air and Claire turned her head to the right, looking down the barrel of the second weapon that was pointed in her face tonight; a handgun, that was held in the hand of a dying police officer.

A/N: Wasn't planning on writing today, but maybe I was inspired by listening to Queen and drinking? XD Today's my birthday! I'm excited!

I love Freddie Mercury and I try to write him and Queen into my stories as frequently as I can. His songs and story inspires me everyday, he's a legend. This chapter is for him. May he rest in peace.