Resident Evil: Volume I

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸: 𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚍 "𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝" 𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜

7th October 1996:

After about 10 minutes of driving and (f/n) giving me earache we finally make it to the busy streets of Raccoon City.

"Jeez,  I knew it was big but not this big!" (f/n) exclaims and to be honest I agree, it is ginormous with tall skyscrapers practically littered everywhere. There are tons of sweet smelling food cabs lining the streets and the road looks like a game of car tetris. Frankly, it's amazing. I always loved the idea of cities and busy atmospheres ever since I was a kid so it's nice to be in a place like this. I'm getting senses of deja vu from my grandma even though I bet it's changed so much.

Snapping back to reality I turn to (f/n) with a quizzical look: "Um where did you say this job fair thing was again?"

"Oh I'm pretty sure it's in the R.P.D which should be just...about...half a mile away," (f/n) frowns and squints intently at her leaflet.

"Well I guess I'll have to take your word for it, let's get going." I charge forward, determined to get there without my legs dying.

"Hey, wait up!" I hear (f/n) groan and can't help but stifle a small giggle.

We walk side by side down the street, pointing and goggling at the different stores and buildings. Eventually, a shadow casts over us and causes me to tilt my head up: a large banner with an Umbrella logo on.

"Ooh, it's Umbrella, they're huge!" (f/n) points up at the banner while tapping my shoulder.

"Yeah, I know and they're everywhere, kinda annoying,"

"They make like pretty much everything," she extends the word 'everything' and I arch an eyebrow.

I just hum in response and continue with our journey. Pharmaceutical companies are not the most exciting things to discuss.

The two of us pass by many colours: the bright neon lights of the cinema that shine even in the day, the fancy, pink lettering of the boutiques, the plain yet sharp wording of the small convenience stores and so much more. Various shouts of different people can be heard from all across the streets, most noticeably from the people running stalls; desperate to sell their goods. When I was a kid I'd see them and wonder how they had the confidence to just talk to random people and shout about the streets. I actually admired it really.

"Hey, what does the R.P.D look like?" I remember that I've got to keep a lookout and lean over to (f/n).

"A big fancy museum type place, that's what was in the leaflet anyway..." she then claps a hand to her forehead, "oh snap."

"What?"

"We passed a fancy museum-looking place earlier," she smiles sheepishly but I just sigh.

It's hard to stay mad at her when she looks at me like that.

"So I guess it's backtracking time?"

She nods.

"How fantastic."

"Sorry!"

"Hey no worries. On the plus side, we get to see all this stuff again, I guess,"

(f/n) smiles brightly and links her arm with mine to which I oblige gleefully. We walk past a small gun shop called "Gun Shop Kendo" that I'm positive we passed not long ago so we should be on the right lines-

*THUMP*

You.
Have.
Got.
To.
Be.
Kidding.
Me.

Wanting to kick myself, I slowly lift my head, meeting light blue eyes. I see a smiling brunette guy with chiseled features and a kind face come into view. He's wearing a khaki green tactical vest and baggy cargo pants tucked into a pair of combat boots. He must be some sort of special officer or military guy.