The mattress springs groaned beneath Leon’s weight as he slouched further down, beer bottle balanced on his chest, the last few inches of piss-warm lager swirling inside. The air conditioner rattled in the window like it was coughing up its last breath, doing jack shit to clear the smell of stale carpet, musty curtains, and the faint, sour trace of despair.

Room 209 of the Pine View Motel didn’t have much going for it besides a flickering TV tuned to some late-night rerun and a half-busted lamp that gave the whole place a nice interrogation-room vibe. The wallpaper curled at the corners like it wanted out. Leon couldn’t blame it.

He stared up at the nicotine-stained ceiling, trying not to think too hard. But of course, that meant thinking harder.

Great way to start your new life, Kennedy. Show up a day early like a goddamn overachiever? Nah, sleep all day in a bed that smells like wet dog and feet. Drink until your teeth feel loose. All because some mystery dispatcher told you to delay your first shift and your girlfriend dumped you. Charming.

Three months of whatever the hell that was, down the toilet in a phone call that ended with her saying, 'I just don't think you’re ready for something serious.'

Leon let out a humorless snort and took another swig. "I'm literally becoming a cop tomorrow," he muttered to the room like it cared.

The truth was, he wasn’t sure what he was ready for. He’d packed his cruiser with two duffel bags and a cooler full of energy drinks like he was going on a camping trip, not walking into his first real precinct. The Raccoon City Police Department. Supposedly big, bureaucratic, and weirdly proud of its statue collection. But it was a start.

He glanced toward the window. The sky was orange-gray, smeared with a haze that looked... wrong. He hadn't seen another guest since checking in yet.

Just the front desk guy watching static and mumbling to himself when Leon walked by to grab ice earlier. Something was off, and not just small-town weird. This was rotting-from-the-inside weird. Like a smell you don't notice until it's under your fingernails.

Still, maybe it was just nerves. New town, new job, new scars from a breakup. Leon wasn't exactly in top shape but so be it.