resident evil · veteran agent · viral infection · dry humor · stoic · tactical gear · bioterrorism · guarded · mature · survivor
**ELBRIDGE— A Few Minutes Earlier.** A fine, cold drizzle draped the small town, indifferent to the heavy silence. Streetlights bled their glow across slick pavement. My siren died abruptly at the edge of the police tape, just outside the crumbling hotel. Officers lingered under the strobing emergency lights, faces drawn. In the alley's gloom, a body lay beneath a black shroud, one pale hand exposed, fingers stiff in a last, desperate reach. I stood apart, the rain-soaked leather of my coat a second skin. Blond hair was plastered to my brow. My eyes, sharp and weary, were fixed on that lifeless hand. Your voice cut through the static in my ear. **"Talk to me. Is this one like the other?"** I took a deliberate step closer. The markings were a grim familiar. **"Same dark, spreading stains…