It's been forever since an update, but with so many RE games that came out that didn't impress me because they lost touch of the old just about, I'm going to pretend the following do not exist; RE6, Operation Raccoon City, Revelations, Mercenaries(even though it kind of doesn't count, but whatever), and Damnation.

There will be a point where I will ask you, the readers, if I should go by the canon and go as far as following what would fit with the RE6 situation, because there is rumor of a new RE games coming out, (REDDD aka Resident Evil Degeneration-Damnation-Downfall), that may have Claire in it…how soon though? I don't care, because this is going to keep going with its own thing until the RE6 Segway.

Onto the plot.


solitude

"So you'll be fine on your own right? I shouldn't be out for long."

Raelyn gave a nod as she sat in front of the TV, conveniently blowing the heads off of various zombies in a game Claire kept forgetting the name; however, as long as she never got involved with anything involving a virus or an outbreak, then her conscience would be clear. For the most part at least.

Claire said no more as she walked out with recorder and notepad at hand, a bit blown back by a fall gust before it died down again.

'Alright. Nothing wrong with a little exploring to see anything suspicious.'

At first glance, Claire realizes how small the town actually is. A population possibly no larger than five hundred at least, from what she could remember when she was being driven in. She could barely see the blur of tall buildings in the distance, the signs of a larger city and more bustling life.

"Well, this would make for a good location for a plan to be hatched. Nice and quiet, too." Claire looked to her cellphone. "And barely a signal around here. Guess that means I'll have to report in person of whatever happens. I'm sure Raelyn won't mind me using her house phone later on.

Claire began to walk around, and despite the clear day and more than tolerable temperatures, it seemed like nary a soul was out for noontime. The houses seemed to only come in two types; the wooden shack-like shelters that seemed to have come right out of 1800s with their dusty feel and strange means of still standing; the latter seemed more modern in form with tile roofs and adobe brick, but their surrounding areas seemed to have made the age creep into their territory and subconsciously bring decay.

"Quite the friend you have Jack…I wonder how you met him to begin with." Claire spoke her thoughts out loud, sure that no one was around to hear her, the wind only making the wood whistle and squeak as if making notion not to mind it, making old rocking chairs go unevenly with the rhythm.

Seconds turned into minutes and then into a whole hour as Claire reached the town limit, with only an old gas station and tumbleweeds to greet whoever came through, just as she did. With a sheriff's station right next to it and the bar just across, she could see the city in the distance, but it was still as if she saw from the opposite direction that was just as far away.

The result was the same in silence and solitude.

"Hey you!"

Well, almost.

Claire whipped her head to the voice, finding a gruff looking hoarier that sat under the shade of the gasoline station, beer in one hand and a can of tobacco in another, eyes hidden underneath the brim of his grimy hat. Well-worn jeans and a shirt spoiled with splotches of black and brown reminded her of the old man that just seemed to be necessary in these kind of locales. Not as bad as Senator Davis, though it's safe to say it was a different breed of rudeness.

'Don't be so stereotypical now…' Claire brushed the thought as she approached the old man.

"I've never seen the likes of you 'round 'ere. You the one that came in that fancy limo?"

"Yes. I'm Claire Redfield, and you are?"

"Hmph. Shouldn' be much of your business, but the name's Shane. What are you doin' around here? Working for that crazy in the ranch far over? Or are you a nosey cop just askin' for trouble?"

'Crazy?'

"Just a babysitting job, but I would like to ask some questions."

Shane spat into his spittoon, taking a swig of beer as Claire waited for a response, keeping her safe distance from a stench that made normal morning breath seem pleasant.

"What about? And what for?"

"Just curious. I'll be out of the way in week."

"Doesn't feel like a time worth telling much, but if you're that bored."

Claire ignored the last past, leaning on the closest filling station. "How about this town for starters? This place didn't show up on the map that easily, let alone the finding a ride to get here.

"Been in this place for ten years, and from what I've picked up on the locals around here, I reckon town's been around for over a hundred. For passersby that lost their way or needed a break. This used to be sacred native Indian Territory of some sorts too. It doesn't have much publicity to begin with for its superstition though."

"Superstition?"

"They say the Indians who lived around here did rituals to summon spirits from way beyond that have passed to ward off forces that destroyed their homes long ago, at the price of human sacrifice. Rumor is that the Indians that were slaughtered after years of defending their land come back from their graves to try and take a human sacrifice and rid their land of the intruders. And that means me…and even you missy."

Claire, disregarding the man's sad attempt to frighten her, took careful note of the story, as silly as it sounded. The dead coming back to life was something that was true after all, so what could have stopped the superstition from becoming a reality? At least in one way or another.

"What…kind of people are they?"

"Superstitious people." Shane snorted at his joke of redundancy but Claire's serious look made him think twice before answering again. "Well, widows for one thing, and old farts like me. There's kids around, but don't see much of them either. And if I do, well, they better keep away from me. They all quiet folk that live in the past, and don't want nothing to do with anyone else outside of town."

"So why isn't anybody around outside? On such a nice day?"

"It's known as the Spell of Roaming you're in right now. Started three days ago. Basically everyone stays in and keeps out of the way of the 'roaming Indians' that are said to be walking these ground right now. It's why they got them dream nets and cow bones and whatnot at their doors."

"How long is it supposed to last?"

"Beats me. It can go for days, to weeks. Longest one lasted for about a month for as long as I've been here. Guess until someone comes out of their cave to see for themselves."

"So why are you outside?"

"What? Don't tell me you dig this bull story too. I don't believe in damn roaming spirits, and at the least I convinced them that I'm standing 'on guard' for 'suspicious evil presences that come this way'." Shane gave a laugh, though quickly followed with a dry cough, drinking it down with more before clearing his throat. "But hey, like you said, it's not half-a-bad day to be out."

"Right…so what can you tell me about the man that lives at the end of this town? Mr. Lumin, who owns the ranch, seems to be moving away."

"That crazy ass? Hmph, he's been riling up the people. His 'engineering' and trying to modernize the place leaves him be the 'wicked one' that refuses to leave, but apparently it doesn't budge 'im. Then again, what moves an arrogant rich guy who decides to go out in a place like this? Unless he's that crazy, and apparently he is. He lives alone as far as I know, because I don't see no other people when he goes back and forth."

Claire raised an eyebrow that the tidbit of testimony. "You don't know if he has family?"

"Never met 'im. Never went to that ranch. Wouldn't care less. But if he did live around others, they'd probably be as miserable as he is if they come out less than the locals."

The wind seemed to whistle away louder, tumbleweeds rushing away, and chimes joining in a strange nonsensical song, Claire finding herself clutching her jacket closer form a wind much colder than expected, and Shane holding onto his hat.

"See now? There's your spirits. Just a bunch a sounds, dust, and dead grass."

"…well, thank you for your cooperation Shane."

Claire turned her heel, beginning her hour long walk back, taking out her phone, ready to send a message to the young teen to see if she was hungry yet.

"Hey! One more thing!"

Claire turned around, still able to hear the man who lifting the saggy brim of his hat, revealing lucid foggy eyes and an almost toothless grin.

"Lock your doors and windows tonight, so you can hear them rattle away from the spirits that want to enter your home."

Claire just turned around with a silent huff, but despite having had most of her physical questions answered, just as many questions came up.

Why live in a place like this to begin with?

Why were the people so fearful of stepping outside?

Was it truly a superstition or something else?

"…what does Lumin have to do with all this?" Claire questioned, writing the enquiries down as she continued on, though felt a strange…discomfort settle over her, like a blanket that was too heavy for the day. She turned around and looked about, nothing having changed or appeared in plain sight. Left and right, the chimes and bones clattered and clanged away as the wind passed, and that seemed to be the order of the place.

"Get ahold of yourself Redfield. The week's just started and already you're paranoid."

She continued on, unknowing of the watchful eyes that peered through the cracks of old curtains and blinds of the homes she passed.


The front office to the apartment complex was empty and without much action. The TVs changed between hours of repeated vacation commercials and late night news feeds, with only the night shift attendant sitting at her place, flipping through the pages of a magazine with the occasional yawn. There was nothing interesting done or people coming at such an hour except for those who need to go to the bathroom or needed more toilet paper. Spring break was far behind and summer still had ways to go, and it made it no better that I t had been raining for days now and hasn't stopped.

'It can't get much worse.'

She heard the bell on her desk ring, about to give a sigh if it was going to be the same guy that demanded for more toilet paper for the 6th time within the span of 12 hours. She peered over the pages of her magazine to find someone else instead.

'Oh, nevermind then.'

"May I help you, sir?" She placed her magazine down, looking at Leon, who didn't look much happier.

"Yes. I would like to know where your postman is. I received a package from him that didn't have a name or address."

"Well, the postman just left for lunch break. He should be at his station." The attendant said.

"Could you direct me to his office?"

"Of course. Just follow me please."

Leon was silent as he trailed the attendant, his mind clouded with questions of the package.

"Benford, it's Leon."

"Calling already friend? You're supposed to be on vacation, are you not?"

"Something's come up. I think I've been spotted by a member of Umbrella."

"What?"

"I received a package with no address or name, but it has picture of several BOWs released by Umbrella, along with what could be a virus or a blood sample of one. I don't know why is was sent to me, but it's classified as a threat for now."

"This is most serious indeed. We will need that package and its evidence. It could help us to another lead. But this agent that seems to following you…if it knows where you are, you must snuff it out and try to apprehend it before it decides to try and start a biohazard in the area. Take caution Leon. This could be the work of something other than Umbrella. Take no chances."

"Right."

The attendant knocked on the door of the postman, his office surrounded by the many PO boxes of the other rooms.

"Roger, you've got an unhappy customer. We don't want to break your streak for good delivery service."

No answer.

"Roger? Hm, he might've gone out to eat, but I would've noticed…"

Leon took his chance, opening the apparently unlocked door and entering and finding the area empty. Piles of envelopes and boxes were neatly place left and right, and the desk was clear for what seemed to be dinner time, but there was no presence of another person.

"Do you know where he could have gone?" Leon asked.

"Well, he usually heads to a Chinese buffet only ten minutes away from here with a walk."

"Don't you think he would've brought an umbrella out in weather like this?" Leon pointed out as he motioned to the dry umbrella in the corner.

"…well, he is a bit old. I wouldn't be surprised if he had other packages to put out still." The attendant's voice couldn't hide the worry in her voice, wondering where the worker could have gone.

"Well, if he comes around, or if something shows up on the cameras, would you please notify me as soon as possible?" Leon handed the information of his room and mobile phone over to her, giving a short nod in reply.

'So already someone is either considered dead, missing, or just not in the right place at the right time. I don't like this…'

As Leon left and headed to his building, he checked his watch for the time, wondering when the rain would stop…

"…time…"

It hit him like a bullet, quickening his pace to a sprint as if a Licker was suddenly on his heels, heading straight towards the elevator.

"This would've given the agent enough time to enter the room if they got in!"

It didn't take long for a call to reach his cell immediately answering, just reaching the floor where his room is located.

"Mr. Kennedy, Roger is just fine, but there's something wrong." Leon could detect confusion in her voice as he kept up his pace, already drawing his pistol out.

"The cameras in the floor of your room are not working. From the footage last taken, they have been down for almost three weeks now, or were taken down without our notice."

"Three weeks?"

"Yes. According to your bill, you had your one week reservation done at the exact same time the footage was cut-"

With a crash of thunder and flash of lightning, the line was cut off, and the hall became pitch black, Leon right in the middle of it.

"…this isn't good…"


…hm, bad or good cliffy?

Not sure I'll be able to keep up the pace on this one. It IS somewhat of a slow starter, but that means it's also a slow burn.

Review, constructively criticize, suggest, and all that good stuff if you like where this is going, or just want to know what'll happen next. Um, any continuity issues, please inform me of, I like sticking to what the universe that Resident Evil presented and taking advantage of what is and isn't there.