The near-silence of the station had become unsettling as Leon walked through the dark halls. Blood had begun to dry, staining the marble floor a reddish-brown. The bodies of Leon's fellow officers and civilians alike lay on the floor of the police station, each one a victim of the mysterious and deadly virus that had turned them into zombies and resulted in their deaths, painting a gruesome picture.

Low groans and nails scratching along the marble floor made Leon tense, his grip on his gun growing tighter, the hair on the back of his neck standing straight. His breath quickened. He had barely escaped the last encounter with the undead alive in these, narrow halls.

"Almost there," he muttered underneath his breath. Desperate to catch a break and recollect himself, Leon quickened his pace as he navigated toward the break room. His footsteps echoed off the floor, drawing attention to him. Shrill cries echoed throughout the empty station. Growing louder and louder, Leon broke into a full sprint, narrowly dodging the long, jagged claws of a Licker.

He burst into the break room and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it. He took in long, deep breaths. Ever so slowly his heart rate began to slow. He took a seat at one of the chairs, taking a moment to relax as he began plotting a way out.

Lost in thought, he nearly missed the quiet sniffles from the adjoining room. "Hello?" He got up and slowly approached the entryway. He peeked in and saw you curled up on one of the bunks, a gun laying right beside you. "Hey, are you alright? I'm Leon. Leon Kennedy."