Three Days In A Nightmare
Prologue
October 1, 1998
5:30 PM
Raccoon City
Dusk had just begun to fall upon the small mid western American suburb of Raccoon City. The sky was painted a deep orange-red as the golden giant that was the sun drifted lazily from its throne high among the clouds. Its last pale rays fell across buildings and houses many darkened and abandoned. Even more appeared to have been looted and ransacked, displaying shattered windows and doors that hung limply on their broken hinges. The sun's dying beams shed illumination on the asphalt streets where the battered, bullet-riddled remains of cars lay scattered haphazardly like a careless child's toys. Numerous vehicles sat parked on the sidewalks, wrapped around lampposts or implanted in the sides of office buildings and stores, slowly burning. The sun continued to fall, its gleaming rays chased after it, spreading light on the four police barricades located in the city's north, south, east and west ends. The barricades consisted of black and blue squad cars, SWAT vans, pylons, concrete walls, sandbags and wooden barriers reading "POLICE". All were arranged in a straight line across the streets to prevent any possibility of entry or exit.
Behind the massive blockades of concrete and steel stood the men and women of the 8th, 10th, and 24th precients. Standing behind the barricades they had been ordered to create, the officers looked out sadly at the frightening necropolis their city was rapidly degenerating into. Clutching their weapons tighter in shaky, clammy hands the police continued to scan the horizon for any threats.
Sinking even further out of view, its yellow beams struggling to provide any illumination at all, the sun shed light on one last gruesome sight before falling bellow the skyline. Laying in the streets, on the concrete sidewalks and the porches of the small, cosy houses were bodies. Human bodies. The life in all of them had been extinguished, now they these citizens lay dead, testament to the growing terror being birthed in Raccoon City. Bullet holes had torn apart many of these people while others had been run over in the blind panic of frightened drivers. The majority of them though, had been trampled to death by their fellow man. Blood and fear ran thick in the streets of Raccoon. Death hid in the shadows but his work was visible everywhere one looked.
At long last the sun was gone. Its light replaced by an errie darkness and an even more chilling silence. A single, lonely gust of wind swept through the urban nightmare, grabbing a scrunched up copy of the local newspaper, The Raccoon Times. The paper was sent rolling and tumbling through the air before colliding with the left wall of the post office building, and smoothing itself out, showing the week-old headline for all to see: "Mysterious Disease Continues to Spread, Fear and Panic Mount."
Like the sun's bright light, the wind's howl died out, replaced by a sound a few miles distant from the city. The low, dull, gentle sound of the air being sliced. The sound of a helicopter.
Prologue
October 1, 1998
5:30 PM
Raccoon City
Dusk had just begun to fall upon the small mid western American suburb of Raccoon City. The sky was painted a deep orange-red as the golden giant that was the sun drifted lazily from its throne high among the clouds. Its last pale rays fell across buildings and houses many darkened and abandoned. Even more appeared to have been looted and ransacked, displaying shattered windows and doors that hung limply on their broken hinges. The sun's dying beams shed illumination on the asphalt streets where the battered, bullet-riddled remains of cars lay scattered haphazardly like a careless child's toys. Numerous vehicles sat parked on the sidewalks, wrapped around lampposts or implanted in the sides of office buildings and stores, slowly burning. The sun continued to fall, its gleaming rays chased after it, spreading light on the four police barricades located in the city's north, south, east and west ends. The barricades consisted of black and blue squad cars, SWAT vans, pylons, concrete walls, sandbags and wooden barriers reading "POLICE". All were arranged in a straight line across the streets to prevent any possibility of entry or exit.
Behind the massive blockades of concrete and steel stood the men and women of the 8th, 10th, and 24th precients. Standing behind the barricades they had been ordered to create, the officers looked out sadly at the frightening necropolis their city was rapidly degenerating into. Clutching their weapons tighter in shaky, clammy hands the police continued to scan the horizon for any threats.
Sinking even further out of view, its yellow beams struggling to provide any illumination at all, the sun shed light on one last gruesome sight before falling bellow the skyline. Laying in the streets, on the concrete sidewalks and the porches of the small, cosy houses were bodies. Human bodies. The life in all of them had been extinguished, now they these citizens lay dead, testament to the growing terror being birthed in Raccoon City. Bullet holes had torn apart many of these people while others had been run over in the blind panic of frightened drivers. The majority of them though, had been trampled to death by their fellow man. Blood and fear ran thick in the streets of Raccoon. Death hid in the shadows but his work was visible everywhere one looked.
At long last the sun was gone. Its light replaced by an errie darkness and an even more chilling silence. A single, lonely gust of wind swept through the urban nightmare, grabbing a scrunched up copy of the local newspaper, The Raccoon Times. The paper was sent rolling and tumbling through the air before colliding with the left wall of the post office building, and smoothing itself out, showing the week-old headline for all to see: "Mysterious Disease Continues to Spread, Fear and Panic Mount."
Like the sun's bright light, the wind's howl died out, replaced by a sound a few miles distant from the city. The low, dull, gentle sound of the air being sliced. The sound of a helicopter.