Author: Kind of short, but it's supposed to be.

July 10, 1967 (4:00 PM).

The floor twisted under my feet. I ran and ran until I couldn't run anymore and yet my efforts were in vain. The floor began to crumble to ash under my ballet shoes. I pushed my limbs further and managed to run up a flight of stairs and through double doors- and I screamed at the sight before me.

Zombies lumbered all around the large room, blood covering the floor in trails. I recognized Raccoon City's Police Department instantly, the lobby that Claire had managed to get inside after being separated from Leon

As the zombies staggered towards me, moaning with their arms extended up and out, another thought crossed my mind: I'm trapped in a nightmare!

With this known the world was suddenly shifting and now I stood inside the Spencer Mansion with the front doors behind me. Atop the stairs was a form shadowed in all black. A chuckle echoed from the form as it walked slowly down the stairs, booted feet echoing.

"Hello, we finally get the chance to talk. I was beginning to think we'd never have time alone." I felt a cold chill slither down my back as the voice simply oozed control.

I glared up at the man, feeling some untapped power within me stir as sudden unexplainable anger boiled in my system. "Albert Wesker." The name slipped from my mouth as he reached the bottom of the stairs, the light casting its touch onto his slicked back blonde hair, sunglasses, smirk and S.T.A.R.S. uniform.

I clutched the edges of my shirt with aching knuckles and I felt something cool drip from them. I glanced down at the blood pooling by my feet before returning my blue gaze to the tyrant before me. The blood kind of freaked me out, but I wouldn't voice this repulsion.

"Alexandria." He nodded his head and I frowned at the use of my rarely heard middle name.

"My name is Saria." I corrected. "Alexandria is my middle name."

"Saria is a dead name. We know you as Alexandria." He stated in a calm voice as he laid a hand on the railing of the stairs, smirk dipping into a straight line. "You and I are the only ones that survived. We live only because we are stronger." He said, removing his sunglasses to clean them.

His cat-like golden red orbs leveled on me as I re-examined his body. I now realized that his shirt and vest had a circular hole on it and blood coated his clothes and skin in patches. The tyrant had impaled him prior to him standing here.

"What do you mean we survived? Survived what?" I asked, confused.

He put his glasses back on and turned to step up a stair, pausing to glance over his shoulder at me. "We survived our lives. Our past."

"I don't understand." I grumbled.

He began to walk up the stairs. "You will in time." He chuckled.

He vanished up the stairs and the dream world shifted and I now stood atop a hospital building, the wind whipping at my clothes as I peered down at the scene below. Zombies were everywhere, dead bodies were scattered about, blood painted the streets of the city and up ahead I saw two forms rushing away.

I recognized Leon Kennedy and Claire Redfield even from their retreating backs. I felt a presence beside me and I glanced to the tall form at my side. I didn't recognize the man, but his familiar features caught me off guard.

"Will you be the one who brings him down or will Albert beat you to it?" He asked.

His name came to mind, William, but it was submerged instantly as the dream changed yet again.

I felt a sudden warmth on my back and I turned to see that I was standing in a burning room. I was close to one of the flaming walls and across from me stood the body of Albert Wesker. He was now clad in all black, glasses on the bridge of his nose and his hair remained the same as in the other dream scene.

"You have the gift of premonition and I the gift of precise memory." He said in a matter of fact tone.

"Gift of premonition?" How was I talking to him in my dream? Why was it so clear?

"The sight of future, vision and prediction." He clarified as if it was something simple to understand. "We all had something, a gift that set us apart. One had speed, another with strength, superior intelligence, strong creative skills, limited mind reading, and others."

"So is this dream some kind of.. premonition? A warning?"

He stepped over to me, leaning close to bring his face even to my own. "It's the future." He chuckled and leaned away. "And this where the dream ends."

I gasped as he suddenly thrust his hand through my chest, my body tipping forward to sag against him. I faded out and the dream disappeared.

Bradly had left the police station office area to head outside to the parking lot. Jack had stopped him outside the doorway and told him he was going to get two people and to wait for him outside. So he did. He leaned against the police cruiser, eyes dark with anticipation.

Jack rounded the corner to enter into Jason's office and he paused at the sharp voices he heard beyond the closed door.

"The promotion was idiotic, Stan doesn't deserve it!" A female voice snapped.

"Oh and you do?" A male voice responded calmly.

"I didn't say that!"

He sighed and stepped forth to knock twice on the wooden frame. The voices quieted before the male voice called out. "Come in." He opened the door and pushed it open, entering the small office.

He blinked at the scene before him. A short female was leaned down before the desk, hands pressed across the top, which was stacked with papers, files, tools and nicknacks.

The male was leaning back in his leather chair, face barely visible beneath his police cap. He tipped it up at the sight of Jack and smiled.

"My, what do we have here? Jack Mares, back in the flesh. I heard you was down south in Mississippi." The man smirked as Jack chuckled.

The ever calm and collected police captain appraised Jack's entry, who shook his head.

"That was two weeks ago, my vacation to see the family and it was Texas, not Mississippi." He replied in a teasing manner.

"Oh, I apologize. It must have been Federico who went to Mississippi." The captain mused to himself. He stood and walked around the desk while the woman stood straight and stepped to the side. He reached out and shook Jack's hand, beaming a warm smile. "Glad you're back."

"Thank you, sir."

Jason Mercer was a thicker, stronger built guy who loved wrestling. His usually bald head was hidden by his cap, his clothes that of his captain's position, but without his jacket, his green shirt tucked in. Cool and frosty cinnamon colored eyes never faltered as he patted Jack on the shoulder.

"Been awhile, Jacky." He turned to the woman as she smiled, her make-up covered face still as pretty as he remembered it. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a bun and she wore a regular cop outfit similar to Jason's, but without the hat and accessories. Sadey Varns. Her eyes glistened a strange aqua color, half green and half blue.

"Hello, miss Sadey." He tipped his black hat to her, green eyes sparkling.

"Do you need something, Jack?" Jason asked, stepping back to access the situation.

"Bradly and I are heading out to find Marco and Fin, who were checking out a lead in the warehouse district a bit over five hours ago. I came to request you two to join us; we might need help since they never radioed in." Jack explained, gaining nods from the duo.

"I'm free, so sure." The usually sarcastic Sadey replied, glancing to her superior.

"If the boys are in possible trouble then what are we waiting for?" The captain smiled and Jack led them outside to the cruiser, where Bradly was impatiently tapping his foot.

He turned his head to the trio advancing and sighed. "I just received a radio call from Fin. His words were rushed, but he said he needed back up quickly. Marco's been injured."

"Let's go! Sadey, with me." Jason said, heading to his own cruiser. The two cars rumbled to life as the passengers strapped themselves in, the cars peeling out. Lights were left off and they kept to the speed limits as they headed to the place where Marco and Fin were.