The old dilapidated home stood in the midst of a relentless downpour, its weather-beaten exterior barely able to withstand the test of time. The once vibrant colors of the paint had long faded, leaving behind a dreary, gray facade that seemed to merge with the somber sky above.

The Kennedy's walked down the hallway, searching for the old woman's bedroom, searching for Hazel. The hallway was a small, dingy space. The rain poured incessantly, cascading from the dilapidated rooftop, and traced a melancholic path down the cracked, moss-covered walls.

The hallway though, was warm, the air close and stale. The windows, once a source of warmth and light, were broken and boarded up with weathered wooden planks, denying any glimpse of the interior. The wood was damp, dank and probably full of spiders and rotten.

The glass that remained reflected the gloomy surroundings, distorting the image like a shattered dream. Rainwater seeped through the cracks, forming small puddles on the decaying wooden floors, adding to the eerie atmosphere of abandonment.

The roof, once a sturdy shelter, exhibited signs of decay even inside. The steady drip, drip, drip echoed through the desolate rooms within, a constant reminder of the dwelling's sad state.

Within the confines of the dilapidated home, the rain's presence was amplified. The air was musty and heavy, carrying the scent of damp wood and decay. The rooms were stripped bare, their walls peeling and stained with watermarks.

A faint rumble of thunder could be heard. A melancholic silence permeated the atmosphere, broken only by the occasional gust of wind or the patter of raindrops against decaying surfaces.

Despite its dilapidation, there was a certain beauty to the old home in the rain. It held remnants of a forgotten past, a testimony to lives lived within its walls. Now, as the rain relentlessly poured, it seemed to weep for its own faded glory, standing as a haunting reminder of the passage of time.

Leon pressed open a door and the door creaked open, letting all the house know exactly where the Kennedy family was. They were lost, completely, hopelessly lost in the vast and labyrinthine recesses of the old house.

They stood upon the threshold of not the bedroom they were looking for but rather an old game room. A sense of neglect and decay hung in the air around them. The once-vibrant space now bore the marks of time, with peeling wallpaper and faded paint covering the walls.

The floor, once adorned with colorful and vibrant carpet, was now covered in layers of dust and debris. The carpet's once-bright patterns had faded into a muted and indistinguishable blend. The wooden floorboards creaked underfoot of Leon's step, betraying their age and lack of maintenance.

The walls were adorned with remnants of what were once vibrant photographs of the fucked up family which now hung askew - a couple barely clung to their spots. Some of them are torn or faded, their subjects barely recognizable.

The furniture in the room had seen better days. The sofas and chairs were worn, with faded upholstery and torn cushions. Their frames were exposed in some places, revealing rusty springs and worn-out padding. A musty smell lingered, a testament to the room's lack of ventilation and neglect.

In the middle of the room, a pool table stood, covered in a thin layer of dust and missing several balls. The fabric on the table's surface was torn and worn, and the once-shiny cues now lean against the wall, their tips chipped and damaged.

Piper and Leon took in their surroundings while Emma ran ahead of them, off to the side, to a large desk with books. "Emma, please be careful," warned her father as he ventured deeper into the room.

Emma Kennedy opened a big dusty volume of something, the cover was so water damaged she couldn't make out a title. Emma flipped to the title page and saw it was a book on mold and she screwed up her little face, who'd read a book about mold?

The families obsession with mold was like a cold sore that wouldn't go away. Before she could close the book, she saw something was underneath the title page; and she flipped to see it, another dog's head.

"Daddy! Mommy! I found another puppy head!" She chirped happily.

Leon took the head from his daughter, and shoved it into his pocket as Piper had found a note that she had written, flooding back painful memories of a time before Leon came to rescue them:

Leon,

Leon, please, if you get this! There is so much you need to know! I can't let the old woman catch me again! Emma, Harper and I need you Leon, Emma cries for you in her sleep. The old woman, if she ever heard Emma crying for you…even in her sleep…she beats her, telling her to stop with daddy bullshit. She threatens Harper, if she keeps crying for food, she'll be fed to her babies.

Zoe is the only kind one where, Leon. She wants to reach you, Leon, she wants you to rescue us. Leon, Leon, please help us! Help, Leon, help!

"What did they do to you, Emma and Harper?" Asked Leon, making Piper jump and hold the damp note to her chest. He had been reading over shoulder and gave her an apologetic smile.

"That's not important right now, what is important is finding our Harper and getting the fuck out of here!" Said Piper.

They left the game room, and made their way down the hallway, going towards a closed door with a loud dripping noise coming from behind it. Leon opened the door to a large bathroom, that reeked with a combination of mold, bodily fluids and fear.

Puddles of fetid brown water littered the ground around them. The only light came from the back wall, over the sink, and a claw foot bathtub stood in the middle of the room. Leon looked into the tub, it was a disgusting mess of god-knows-what, it looked slimy and snotlike, but it was black and reeked of mold.

The door opened once the Kennedy family realized the bathroom was to be of no use to them, and daddy Jack stepped inside, still wounded from their prior fight. "How the fuck are you still alive!?" Screamed Piper.

He grabbed Leon by the throat and lifted him up, but peered around his squirming legs at Piper and her daughter. "Heck of a thing, ain't it, ladies? Sure as shit beats the hell out of dying," he chuckled.

Jack threw Leon on the other side of the tub and he landed with an injured sniff. "My little girl has given us a gift, and this gift is with me always."

Leon grabbed Emma and raced out of the room, he hoped Piper was following. "Go! Go faster, Leon!" She cried from behind him. "Daddy is after us!"

"As you can see, the family is only a part of her gift," said Jack. "Which — in a word — means, you're fucked!"

The Kennedy's raced into the main house, away from the bathroom, away from the game room. Leon looked around for a place to hide. "Daddy! Try the puppy head!" Said Emma, and Leon did, it needed just one more.

"Come out wherever you are!" Taunted Jack from the game room, or at least that's what it sounded like.

Piper grabbed his hand and led him through a crawlspace which took them to a nice seating area, one that looked familiar to where he finally got to hold his newborn daughter. Though, patches of black mold stained the wall.

Leon went into another room, it looked to be a drawing room, this one had less mold then the seating room. Across a large desk was a bunch of papers that all contained crayon drawings. "Emma is getting good at drawing!" Whistled Leon. But a character in her drawings stood out. "Why did she draw Albert Wesker?"

"Those aren't my drawings, daddy," said Emma.

"Were they keeping another little girl here?" Leon asked as Piper entered the room. Piper shrugged, for that question, she had no answer. "And does that kid have any knowledge of Wesker? I barely know the guy."

"Maybe it's one of Chris's children?" Said Piper, literally trying to find any plausible answer.

"Have you seen Bridgette around?" Asked Leon.

"You know daddy would have killed her with how pig headed Mrs. Redfield could be," said Piper, and that was the G-d honest truth.