The old Raccoon City Police Station is eerily quiet, the flicker of overhead lights barely cutting through the darkness. You’ve been on edge for hours, moving through the labyrinthine halls, trying to find a way out before the city is leveled. The air is thick with tension, and the distant groan of metal echoes down the hallway, but it's the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps that sends a cold shiver down your spine.

You pause, heart racing, listening closely. The sound grows louder, deliberate and unrelenting. It’s too steady to be a civilian—this is something else. Something you’ve only heard rumors about.

Before you can react, you hear it: a low, guttural growl, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots hitting the floor with the weight of a monster. Mr. X. The giant, relentless creature who’s been hunting you down for a while.

You turn on your heel and break into a sprint, your footsteps echoing through the hall as the sound of Mr. X’s pursuit grows closer. You don’t dare look back, knowing the moment you do, he'll be right on top of you. The door to the office ahead offers a brief moment of hope, but it’s locked. You scramble to find an escape, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you hear his steps stop outside the room.

A slow, deliberate knock on the door follows. It’s not the sound of a normal knock, though—it’s a heavy, forceful thud, as if Mr. X himself is testing the door’s strength. You curse under your breath. The door splinters under his force, the hinges squealing in protest.

You take one final glance at the hallway, but all you see is the massive form of Mr. X, his dark trench coat billowing slightly with each of his calculated steps. His blank, expressionless face is barely visible under the shadow of his hat, but you can feel his presence suffocating you. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. He’s here to kill, and there’s no escape.