After beginning to drive into the city, Henry experienced just how big of a place it really was. Raccoon City supposedly only had a population of around a hundred thousand people, but the urbanisation of the place was very telling.
Buildings went high into the sky, and the streets appeared to be filled with people. In fact, they were so packed that he even began to doubt whether the population matched up with what was shown within the game world he knew in the originals—suspecting that this city was based on the remakes instead, where the population seemed much larger.
He drove down multiple roads and passed the distinct Raccoon City Orphanage on the way. Knowing full well what Umbrella did there.
Sick bastards.
Henry scrunched up his nose in disgust at the thought. These guys didn't care about kids. In fact, they didn't care about anyone but themselves. And now that he thought about it, this entire world seemed to be full of such people.
You had Oswell E Spencer, one of the key founders of Umbrella and the current undisputed leader of the company. This guy was about as megalomaniac as they come with a single goal: To create a new world order where only the genetically superior would rule—basically global domination and immortality.
Then there's the snake in the grass. Albert Wesker. Henry grimaced at the mention of the name, remembering that their encounter would happen soon enough. Not only would he have to pretend that he didn't know anything, but he would also need to hide any of his own personal feelings for the guy.
"The man's a walking piece of shit, alright. He sends both the alpha and bravo teams into the Spencer Mansion as some kind of sick fucking experiment to get more data. He's gotta be a psychopath, at the very least. And honestly, I don't know if he's better or worse than Spencer."
Running a hand through his hair, Henry turned towards the final person on his personal list. William Birkin. A scientist who is totally obsessed with the G-Virus to the point of insanity. He would rather spread the thing and inject himself than hand it over to anyone. Even when the city begins to fall apart later, he prioritises his research over Sherry and Annette, his own daughter and wife, putting them all at risk.
True, I wouldn't necessarily place him on the same level as the other two inhuman monsters... However, the guy's obsession borders on dangerous for another reason altogether.
Henry's chest fell as he finally let the air escape, seeing a familiar building coming up on his right. The R.P.D.. Its iconic steel gates and metal fence sat atop a brick wall that he soon recognised from the remakes he'd finished countless times.
I did wonder if they would use the original design from the older games, but I guess not. Well, I did prefer the remakes more, but I guess it doesn't exactly matter, considering the circumstances.
Henry shrugged the useless thought away, spotting a police officer walking by. Someone he vaguely recalled... though he couldn't seem to place the man's face just yet. The young officer had short, neatly trimmed brown hair and a clean-shaven jawline. As for his age, Henry suspected he was probably in his mid to late twenties.
Where the heck have I seen this guy before?
He squinted his eyes as he racked his brain when, suddenly, a particularly gruesome scene played out in his mind. It was near the start of Resident Evil 2. Not long after you enter the police station for the first time, you receive a call for help on the radio. Henry couldn't remember the guy's name on the other end, or if the game ever states it, but the scene of him getting torn into two while trying to crawl underneath a steel shutter really struck him.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
It's a shocking scene and one of the very first of the game, letting you fully experience how fucked up things were.
Remembering the young man's ultimate fate, Henry couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. However, what could he do about it as things stand? Try to play the hero and get called crazy? Possibly attracting the attention of opportunistic assholes waiting in the shadows?
No, he wasn't stupid enough to do that. Nor was he the hero type like Chris Redfield, who wore his heart on his sleeve. Besides, there were still a few months left before those events even occurred, and right now, he could barely help himself, let alone somebody else.
He could only clench his jaw, put his foot on the gas, and continue down the road in search of the underground parking lot.
Henry knew the entrance should be at the back of the R.P.D., so he drove around the building. Eventually, coming across a big metal gate with a sign stating, 'Raccoon City Police Department: Authorised Personal Only.'
This should be it.
He concluded, tapping his steering wheel with his left hand while squinting both eyes at a card reader next to the gate—nestled in the brick wall. Obviously, to get into the parking lot, you needed some type of keycard.
Considering this, he reached into his pocket and brought out a wallet—the brown leather smooth and comfortable, yet at the same time, unfamiliar. And as expected, inside, there was an I.D. similar to those found in the game.
On the left of the I.D.—the dark blue side—was the word S.T.A.R.S., with Raccoon Police Dep written around a circle surrounding three stars. While on the other white side, it displayed Henry Ashcroft and, below the name, a signature—something he would need to practise later—with an identification number directly beneath.
Henry took out this card from his wallet, briefly scanned the details, and lowered the window. Grasping the laminated I.D. in his sweaty palms, he reached out and slowly swiped it through the reader on the wall...
*Beep*
It sounded, followed by a click, and then the gate gradually opened, leading him into the iconic underground parking lot that looked so eerie in his memories. Except, right now, the place appeared totally normal—with the lights on and working. Filled with all types of vehicles. These vehicles ranged from the typical Ford Crown Victoria—a well-known police cruiser from the 90s with the R.P.D. logo on the sides. To the S.T.A.R.S. van. A box-shaped vehicle that was black in colour with all-terrain wheels. Both flanks had the S.T.A.R.S. logo with a reinforced bumper emphasising durability, while on the roof were multiple mounted tactical lights.
Henry gawked at the van, passing by the chunky thing on his way to a space. One in the furthest northeast corner. There was an elevator nearby that he assumed would lead him directly to the first floor above.
This elevator didn't appear in the game at all, which made a lot of sense. Considering that the Raccoon City Police Department within that world was created more for players—similar to some sort of theme park rather than an actual working police station.
Therefore, Henry wasn't too surprised with the change. Driving over to the bay, he put his car into reverse and parked up before turning the engine off.
"Okay, this is it". He reminded himself, gripping the wheel tightly. Taking a breath in, he took a second, then two, and on three, exhaled slowly, getting out of the car.
Both feet soon came into contact with cold, rough concrete as they landed on the floor. Apart from a few additions, such as the lift, the underground parking garage layout looked almost the same as Henry remembered on screen—minus the wreckage and gore that would come later—with cars coming and going and police officers conducting their everyday jobs with a sense of duty.
Occasionally, Henry would catch a few of them glancing over at him as if to question his identity. Making him wonder: Am I a new face around here or something? But if that were true, then why do I already have an I.D. card and a custom-made S.T.A.R.S. samurai edge? The I.D. could be explained away easily enough—through the mail or some other easy alternative, yet the gun itself is a bit of a mystery...
Unless perhaps this wasn't his first visit. But he had no way of knowing that without asking someone directly, and that would probably make him seem crazy.
Henry didn't want to risk it.
So, all he could do was approach the elevator and press the button while eyeing the suspicious man leaning against the wall nearby. This guy had a beat-up-looking leather jacket that had seen a lot of action, messy, medium-length dark brown hair and a rather angular face with slight stubble on the chin.
After noticing Henry waiting at the elevator, he put his notepad away and pushed his pair of brown glasses up his nose before walking forward. Wiping one hand on his trousers, he then offered it out, "
"Ben Bertolucci, investigative journalist."
Of course, Henry immediately realised the identity of this guy and couldn't help but curse his luck.