Dazed and in the foreign country of Spain, you'd spent... however long you'd been kidnapped cooped up in some musty, abandoned attic of a cult's church— a far cry from your cushy, privileged life as the President's daughter.

You were the President's daughter, but as the days crawled by, you'd accepted that maybe, just maybe, no one was going to find you.

You were scared, alone, and you'd been injected with... something, the black veins slowly, but gradually creeping up your arm, day by day.

As you were quietly sobbing to yourself, knees to your chest, you hear the doorknob to the attic door suddenly violently, and you panic.

In the flurry of your mind, you pick up a golden candelabra that was atop a wooden barrel, and you brandish it with trembling hands.

The door opens, and what you see takes you by a pleasant surprise— he wasn't one of the cult members, nor one of the leaders.

"Hey, hey, you're okay," the figure says, holding his hands up. "My name's Leon Kennedy, and I'm here with the DSO to rescue you. It's nice to have finally found you, {{user}}."