This will be my first time writing for a series like this one. A little excited ngl. I hope y'all enjoy!

Disclaimer: Resident Evil is owned by Capcom and not me, all I own is my OC.

X~X
1

X~X

21, September

She was running through the old decrepit house, her heavy boots thudding against the wood. A series of squeaks followed behind her and she hissed out a curse, turning left around a corner. Straight into a dead end. Her eyes widened in disbelief as the shotgun in her hand fell to the ground, a loud bang came from it as its final bullet fired into a wall.

There should've been a hallway. It wasn't supposed to be a dead end! A hot burst of air brushed against the back of her neck and her eyes closed, sweat going down her black veined face as she grimaced. A giggle echoed around her.

"You should've turned right."

Her eyes snapped open just as razor sharp teeth buried themselves into her shoulder. She fell to her knees and let out a scream of pain as the teeth tore through her muscles. The scream increased in volume as the teeth ripped back. She felt cold, even as warmth began to pool around her. Damn, she really should've been more careful.

X~X

"Good morning Racoon city!" A loud cheerful voice caused her to jolt awake.

She let out a grunt as she hit the hardwood floor. Her breathing was heavy, yet quiet. A small skill she had picked up rather quickly the first time one of those monsters had found her. She looked ahead for a few seconds as the voice prattled on about the weather, how it would be a wonderful seventy degrees the entire day. She blinked once. Twice. And then a final time as she really listened to the radio.

"This morning we have a caller asking us for advice about his girlfriend," the cheerful voice stated as she slowly sat up and looked around the small room.

Where the hell was she?

"This caller wants to know what the best way to propose would be," the voice continued.

She got up from the floor and stumbled slightly due to her stiff legs. The blankets, that had been dragged down when she had fallen to the ground, pooled around her feet. Her gaze dropped to the red satin, and all she could see was a giant puddle of blood around her. With a sharp kick the material went flying across the room. Her breathing was heavy as she brought a hand up and dragged it down her face. She didn't want to see such things!

"Well caller, I would say a proposal over dinner would be best," the cheerful voice sounded as though it was being played through a funnel and she brought her hands up to cover her ears as a low growling started. "But I would never push the lady to accept it and don't draw too much attention."

A loud ringing snapped her out of her thoughts just as her nails began to painfully dig into her scalp. She stood up straight and allowed her hands to fall to her sides. Phone. She needed to pick up the phone, she would get more information that way. The way out…no, she wasn't there anymore. She briskly walked to the phone and picked it up.

"Elise Winters here," she answered, frowning a tad noting that her accent was different from the radio DJ.

"Winters, did you get lost?" she blinked at the amused male voice.

"My alarm seems to have been broken, my apologies," she lied, not understanding what was going on.

"I was just giving you a hard time," the man said, and her shoulders slowly slouched as she relaxed. "Just make sure to come in so you can be shown the ropes."

"Yes, sir," she confirmed without thinking.

The line went dead, and she listened to the tone for a few seconds. That…that wasn't right. They had an older phone because they were an old family. Why would this room have one? She tilted her head and looked at the ground. Landline, she had forgotten what they had been called. The tone stopped when the handset was set down. She ran a hand through her long hair. Well, she would have to piece things together from clues around the small apartment.

Elise began to slowly move around the apartment and noted a few things. White walls, and wood floors. She tapped her toes against the floor, it was real wood and not the vinyl that had been in her own apartment. Well, she had to think about that. Wouldn't this also be her apartment? She picked up a small manila folder, silently wondering where her iPad had gone, and opened it. An American citizenship stared back up at her. Those took months to get. She flipped through the folder and saw more documents. Taxes, her new residence, her new place at work, and one thing that scared her. The year. She hadn't even had a thought process in nineteen ninety-eight. Hell, she wasn't even able to talk! How the hell was she somehow in that year? She shook her head with a wry smile, no it had to be a prank done by her sister-in-law.

Maybe it was an apology for putting her through hell? Or what she had done to her? No, she doubted that much. Elise never even got the chance to ask her why the hell she had gone and created something straight out of a video game. She sat down in a nearby chair and ran her hands through her hair at the thought. Resident Evil had been a family favourite game, though she had come into it through the newer renditions. The seventh game had been her favourite and her most hated, sharing the same last name as the character had been enjoyable but the events inside it had hit too close to home. It was when it came to life that she had taken issue with it. Elise sighed, that poor family. They hadn't deserved what happened to them. She didn't deserve what happened either, but she was still living. She could still go on, they couldn't. It didn't matter if she was a monster, she could pretend to be normal just to keep safe.

"Well…I suppose it's off to work I go," Elise muttered, looking back at the folder. "Uniform given upon arriving, huh?"

She stood up and moved towards the small suitcase that was set at the end of the bed. It was a dark blue, her favourite colour. She sighed and unzipped it, finding a few clothes inside. It felt like her mum's wardrobe from her twenties was hitting her in the face. A black turtleneck and a leather jacket that she was quite sure was out of her price range. She felt the soft leather and the sheepskin. Shit. It was incredibly expensive. She nervously tapped her hands against the leather and wondered where it had come from. She shook her head, she needed to get going.

"Who said that the nineties had terrible fashion," she muttered to herself as she headed to the police office.

X~X

It was nice that her new apartment was located nearby. She rubbed the back of her neck in thought. Something about this was bothering her, and it bothered her a lot. A soft whisper in the back of her head made her frown. No, she didn't want to think of that at the moment. She needed to focus on Racoon city, hadn't there been a mention of that city in the seventh game? She was crazy. It had to be because of her being English, but she was certain it wasn't a real city.

"Wow, look at the newbie," a man whispered as she entered the station and looked around at the large building.

A statue of a woman towered over the workers as they walked around and talked to one another. She saw an old woman sitting behind a desk with a cup of coffee in her hand. She was being given hugs and sad smiles as people passed. That had to be who she was replacing.

"That's only one of them," she heard another respond. "The other's a guy named Leon, he's still moving into the area."

Leon? That name sounded familiar. She discreetly studied the area and frowned. She needed more information about where she was. She already knew when. An unsettled feeling started to form in her gut. A part of her thought she was dreaming, but everything was going for too long.

"You made it," a man said and she took stock of him.

Dark skinned, pleasant demeanour, and tall. She had to look up at him. She gave a small smile, and he raised his brows. Elise had to stop herself from tilting her head in confusion. Just what had he figured out.

"No one said anything about you being shy," he dryly commented and she rubbed the back of her head with an internal wince.

Elise had hoped that no one would notice. A soft whisper in her ear had her stop moving as she lowered her arm. Right, it wasn't the time to get shy. She needed answers, or she'd be left with too many questions.

"You'll be working up in the waiting room," he informed her. "It's a small office, but it helps to have someone stationed there to make sure no one steals any of the pieces in the old gallery."

"Yes, sir," she said, nodding her understanding.

Her eyes caught his name tag. Branagh, she didn't know the first name yet. She didn't even know his rank. She inwardly cursed. Getting information was going to be like pulling teeth. She headed up the stairs and was directed by a blonde female officer where to go. She needed to be given her uniform, and she contemplated what her job was. Security for the waiting room? Or was she an actual officer? She would figure out more as things progressed.

X~X

The waiting room was pleasant, and completely empty. She sighed as she jotted down what information she had found while listening to other's conversations. Branagh was a lieutenant, and one of the best police officers that Racoon city had seen in years. The year was truly nineteen ninety-eight. She wasn't dreaming, slicing her hand open while trying to get her chair the way she wanted it to sit had made it quite clear that everything that was happening was real. She sat back with a frown.

So, how did it happen?

A part of her couldn't figure it out. Elise had such little information to go on that it was maddening. She looked over her list again and tapped the tip of her pen against the page. Her eyes widened as she watched as the black ink spilled. She hissed out a curse and quickly stood up and grabbed a nearby trash can. The paper and pen went inside its depths and she sat back down. Her hands went through her hair. She wished her twin Evan was with her. He would know how to get out of the mess she was in. A soft groan escaped her. No, no he wouldn't and that wasn't fair to put on him. Shit.

Shit.

Elise didn't like this at all. A clap of thunder echoed around the building and she jumped just the slightest. She could smell the humidity, feel the moisture on her skin. Her heart was pounding as rain fell against the metal roof of an old house. The wood of that house creaking. Her breath caught in her throat. No, she didn't want to be back there. She didn't escape from that place just to go back. To be trapped by it. She flinched at the sound of a door opening. A cooing reached her ears. Damn, she thought she had hid well enough that the matriarch of the house wouldn't find her. The coo got louder and she felt sweat gathering on the back of her neck.

"Winters!" The call snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see Branagh standing in front of her desk with a frown.

"Sorry, I got lost in thought, sir," she apologized, standing up and making sure to keep eye contact with him.

"I need you to give the other rookie a call," he said, holding out a card. "Somethings happening out in town, and he needs to stay away until he's needed."

"Sir?" She couldn't help but question.

"It comes from the chief," he stated, shaking his head. "The others were so excited to meet him too."

"If anyone needs some food for a future party I'm always happy to cook some," she couldn't help but say and he raised a brow.

She had sounded Cajun for a few seconds. He was most likely hearing a strange inflection on certain words due to her English accent. The kid was from north Yorkshire, he just wasn't used to her accent. That had to be it.

"I might take you up on that offer," he joked. "What kind of food do you make?"

"Shrimp boil, jambalaya, pulled pork," she listed off, completely serious. "Mostly barbecue foods, Cher."

He stared at her for a few seconds and he watched as she simply tilted her head a bit. Now he was certain she had a bit of cajun in her accent. Elise had gone too far. She had allowed the others to speak their thoughts and now she was being stared at as if she was crazy. It wasn't her fault she had a whole Louisianan family stuck in her head! It was something she never really put much attention towards, if she did then they'd overrun her thoughts. It was such a fine line. One that was all too easy to cross.

"Spend some time here?" He finally asked.

"Yes, down in Louisiana," she admitted, a small white lie that held some truth.

"Explains the mixing of accents," he commented and she couldn't help but respect how sharp he was.

"I'll give him a call," she said. "Just orders to stay away?"

"We'll keep him on call," he replied and she nodded.

That was an easy one. He left her to it and she picked up the phone staring at the small card. Contact information. This guy didn't even live in the area, he was closer to Boston. She blinked at his name. Leon S. Kennedy? Elise couldn't help but think that was an unfortunate last name. Nothing good ever happened for Kennedy's…if her small knowledge of US history was right. The family hadn't been historians, so she wasn't too sure.

"Hello?" A groggy voice asked with a Boston accent.

Elise blinked in surprise, he sounded younger than she expected.

"Hello," she said, and she heard a confused sound on the other end. "Is this Leon Kennedy?"

"Yeah, you've reached him," he confirmed, his confusion clear in his voice.

"I'm Elise Winters. I work with the Raccoon City Police department," she informed him. "I am aware you were supposed to start soon, the chief has asked that you remain on call for the time being."

"All right," he murmured, and she felt bad for him.

"It's not ideal, but thank you for your cooperation," she couldn't help but say.

"I'm not going to shoot the messenger," he pointed out, amused by her.

Elise couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. It had been such a long time since she had heard someone say something so corny. It was nice, and it made her feel normal.

"Have a nice day, Mr Kennedy," she quietly said.

He hummed in response and she hung up, going back to her pondering. She rubbed the back of her neck in thought. There was something odd about the entire situation. Why have her there on time, but have Kennedy stay away? It didn't make sense.

X~X

23, September 1998

Elise looked down at the reports that had been circulating around the office. Three days in and she was slowly getting assimilated to the nineties. It helped that the family had been around during that time, their whispers helped her to act normal. She gave a soft groan, and held her stomach. All she knew was that the water had upset her stomach.

Elise should be glad she was protected from illnesses. What her sister-in-law had done, the mold she had created, had changed her completely. She was the hive, the host, and would be fine. It was the mold fighting whatever was inside her that caused her pain. She lifted her shirt, the dark blue uniform shirt rough against her skin, and saw the dark veins across her stomach. Elise couldn't help but hiss out a curse. There was something in the water all right. She pulled her shirt back down and ignored the pain in her stomach after doing so. The door to the waiting room opened and she stood up. Branagh seemed out of breath, his expression distressed.

"We need to start evacuating the city," he informed her and she moved around her desk.

"Sir?" She asked in confusion.

"It's an order from the pentagon," Branagh explained.

Elise nodded, not arguing. It wouldn't do for her to do so. She followed behind him and watched as the officers ran around. Some of them were reloading pistols and others were fixing their riot gear. She felt a chill down her spine and noted that the voices were quiet. Even the family was unnerved by what was happening.

She ran her hand down the Kevlar vest she was now wearing. Her expression was carefully blank as she rode out with a few other cops. She didn't know anyone else in the car, but they were all under the same orders. Put up roadblocks and stop any citizens that would fight against them. Her jaw clenched in anger for the people in Racoon city. They were put under martial law, and were expected to just go on with their lives?! Her eyes narrowed as the car stopped, and she heard the rain pittering against the windows.

"These poor people," a woman muttered as they clambered out of the cruiser.

"Shut up, Mason," a man snapped, pushing his shaggy black hair out of his eyes.

"Let's just put up the barriers and head back," another man sighed.

Elise was lucky enough to be paired up with him. Their hair was longer than the other's, and was plastered to their faces from the rain. The weather seemed to have set the mood for the whole city. Elise didn't like it, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. Her stomach let out a sharp pain and she simply clenched her jaw, ignoring it. They finished setting up the barrier. Elise stood up straight, alleviating the pain a bit. She heard a soft sound, and slowly looked over at it. A young girl with dark hair was looking at them in awe.

Her heart clenched at the sight. That child was going to be incredibly disappointed when everything came out. She already knew of a single whistleblower that had been sent to jail. It wasn't out of the realm of reality for more to follow. The entire force was loyal, but she didn't doubt that what was happening would cause a domino effect.

Branagh watched one of their new recruits and let out a soft sigh. Poor kid was a lot kinder than she let on. He noted the discomfort that would show on her face because she quickly removed it and helped a civilian get comfortable. He leaned against the reception desk and sighed again. If he couldn't get one rookie under his wing then he'd get the other. He decided to talk to her when she finally took a small break. he found her sitting away from the other officers.

"Field promotion," he commented and she tensed just a bit before giving a curt nod. "It's been a long time since we've had one of those."

"I was quite content in manning the waiting room," she admitted, looking up at him from her spot on one of the leather sofas. "I didn't have to risk my life…and I didn't have to use a gun."

"Not a fan?" His question was met with a tired look.

"Yeah, not a fan, Cher."

She had given him a nickname. He was the only one she called that. He hadn't even heard her call someone love yet. If he thought more about it, he hadn't really heard her talk to anyone else. She pushed her pale hair back from her face and fiddled with the long strands. She gave them a thoughtful look.

"Mason knows how to cut hair," he informed her, and she was startled a bit. "If you need it shorter for active duty she's the best to ask."

"Thank you," she said.

Her smile was small, but shy. He was used to reading people. He knew who was keeping secrets, and what a person was really like. She was hiding something, but was nonviolent. She didn't have the temperament to be a police officer. He motioned for her to move with a quick twitch of his head and she nodded. She got up from the sofa, and hurried away.

Elise looked at Mason and noticed that the woman was nervously pacing. She didn't want to bother her, but if she didn't come back with shorter hair than Branagh might get upset with her. Mason paused in her pacing and looked at Elise, making the English woman tense. She motioned with a curt shake of her head and Elise moved towards the nervous officer.

Mason looked at the kid in front of her, and inwardly cursed. She was a woman in her late thirties with three kids, and she couldn't imagine her eldest going through all this. She pushed her red hair away from her face and studied the platinum strands. They were thick, and she could see that the hair had heat damage. So, naturally wavy or curly that was straightened.

"You have curly hair?" She asked and the younger woman flinched before nodding. "You better not straighten it any more after this."

Elise was quiet before giving a small nod. She wouldn't tell anyone that the reason behind her straightening her hair was because it was something that made her different from her twin brother. She got it from their mum. Just the thought of her family made her sad. She heard the soft voice of the matriarch of the family and she simply sighed. It was appreciated, but she didn't know if she was ever going to see her family again. She felt incredibly stuck.

A few strands of platinum hair falling pulled her from those thoughts. Her hair, the one thing she loved about herself, was falling around her. It was necessary, but she couldn't help the distraught expression on her face. One that made Mason gain a sympathetic look. It was obvious that the younger woman's hair was sentimental to her.

"It's still long enough that you can pull up," Mason said, ruffling the younger woman's hair and getting her eyes to close in response to loose hairs.

"Thank you," Elise quietly thanked.

Her hair barely brushed against her shoulders, a change from the lower back length she had grown used to. It was lighter. And curlier. Mason had wet her hair down to remove the straightening she did that morning. She was shooed away, and she noticed that Mason seemed a bit more relaxed.

X~X

25, September 1998

Elise felt her knuckles creak as her fist embedded itself in the face of a man that was attacking the other refugees. She winced a bit as a tall man -David Ford she has to remind herself- quickly tackled him. Another officer ran forward and helped their fallen co-workers. One of them wasn't moving, and the other three were injured.

"Nice right hook," Branagh complimented, noting the bruising on the man's face as he fought against Ford.

Elise numbly nodded. She recognized the unmoving officer. Mason's shirt was stained red from the knife buried in her chest. It was a lucky stab, and one that Elise had wished hadn't happened. Her one other friend in the precinct was gone. Branagh quickly ushered her away from the mob, he knew when someone was close to breaking. She was so close. Too close for comfort.

"What did you go through?" He asked and she gained an odd expression.

"I don't think you'd believe me even if I could tell you," she stated, her gaze fixated on the floor.

He gave her a serious look and she simply frowned in thought. Branagh finally found someone that was incredibly hard to crack. She kept her mouth shut, and that was a dangerous person to have around. Yet, they were also the best. He ran a hand down his face and watched the refugees.

"They won't calm down," Elise said, still looking at the floor. "I think it's going to get worse…we haven't seen anything yet."

Branagh didn't like the sound of that. He didn't like the sound of that at all.