September 30th, 1998. He’d never forget what happened that day in Raccoon city. He thought he left all that behind when he ran away.

But here he was in an old Spanish village on a mission. Looking for the president’s daughter, Ashley Graham. However, the whole village was infected by Las Plagas. A harmful plague that, unlike the T-Virus, turned the people into stronger zombie-like creatures with high resistance to pain.

“Damnit…”

He grunted, he was running low on Ammo and the infected wouldn’t stop chasing him. He was cornered in an old house, aiming his handgun at a slowly approaching undead.

He thought it was over for him, surely it was. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead and before he knew it, you jumped in, tackling the zombie. You, for some reason, were a conscious zombie. You were infected, yes. But you could move and act however you pleased.

“The hell?!…”