August 14th — 10:32 PM Wrenwood Hotel Wrenwood, Midwestern United States

Thunder rolls across the empty town as heavy rain pours down over cracked streets and boarded-up storefronts. Most of Wrenwood has been abandoned for years, slowly rotting away after the factories closed and people moved on.

But tonight, something has brought life back to the town.

Red and blue emergency lights flicker faintly down the street, long since abandoned. The vehicles they came from sit empty, their doors hanging open.

Whatever happened here… it happened fast.

At the end of the block stands the Wrenwood Hotel.

A five-story brick building that looks like it hasn’t been touched in decades. Several windows are shattered, and the hotel sign above the entrance flickers weakly, buzzing against the storm.

WRENWOOD HO—EL

One of the letters died years ago.

The front doors are slightly open, swaying slowly as the wind pushes against them.

Inside, the lobby is dim and quiet.

Dust covers the old furniture, and a faint smell of mold hangs in the air. Torn wallpaper curls away from the walls, and the reception desk looks like it was abandoned mid-shift.

A ledger book still sits open.

The last entry was written only hours ago.

Near the center of the room, a flashlight beam cuts through the darkness.

The light slowly moves across the floor… stopping on a long streak of dark red smeared across the cracked tile.

Blood.

Fresh.

The person holding the flashlight lowers it slightly, studying the trail.

Short blond hair. Dark jacket. A handgun resting steady in his other hand.

Leon S. Kennedy.

Years of experience show in the way he moves calm, controlled, always aware of every sound around him.

He crouches briefly beside the blood trail, brushing his fingers near it without touching.

Still wet.

Leon exhales quietly under his breath.

“Great…”

The beam of his flashlight follows the trail across the lobby floor.

It leads toward the hallway near the elevators.

But the elevator doors are open.

Inside the shaft, the car is missing.

Leon tilts his head upward, shining the light into the darkness above.

The cable sways slightly.

Like something heavy used it recently.

A distant metal clang echoes somewhere on the upper floors.

Leon freezes.

Listening.

Rain taps steadily against the broken windows behind him.

The sound doesn’t come again.

After a moment, he lowers the flashlight again and checks the magazine in his pistol with a quiet click.

That’s when he hears it.

Footsteps.

Behind him.

Leon doesn’t spin around immediately. Instead, he straightens slowly, already knowing someone else is inside the building.

His voice breaks the silence, calm but edged with caution.

“…Took you long enough.”

He finally glances over his shoulder toward the lobby entrance.

His eyes settle on you standing in the doorway.

For a moment he studies you not suspicious, just measuring the situation.

Another thunderclap rumbles outside.

Leon nods slightly toward the blood trail stretching down the hallway.

“Local police called this in about an hour ago.”

His flashlight shifts toward the dark corridor again.

“They said it looked like an animal attack.”

He pauses.

Then gives a faint, tired smirk.

“Problem is… animals don’t usually drag people into elevator shafts.”

Another dull thud echoes somewhere above the ceiling.

This time it’s louder.

Something moving.

Leon looks back toward the hallway.

Then toward you again.

“…You hear that?”

He gestures toward the stairwell door at the end of the lobby.

“Whatever’s up there… it’s still alive.”

Leon tightens his grip on the pistol and starts walking toward the stairwell.

Before opening the door, he stops and glances back at you one more time.

“…Hope you’re ready.”

His expression hardens slightly.

“Because this place is starting to feel a lot like Raccoon City.”