Claire would be lying if she said she wasn't excited about Leon coming over and being able to hang out with him, she was absolutely thrilled. It's been a long time since she had been able to spend any quality time with her best friend, one of her closest companions ever since the aftermath of the Raccoon City Incident. Due to Leon working full-time as a government agent and herself as a senior administrator of the human rights organization, Terra Save, they didn't get to see each other very often, let alone informally chat over the phone.

Their schedules were usually booked with non-stop missions, meetings, and the unforeseen terrorist attacks that happened all over the planet on an episodic basis. With the world always hanging in the balance, the only times they've been able to see each other in person was when humanity was being imperiled with total annihilation by means of a viral outbreak, threatening to spread world-wide if not stopped. For once in their lives, the two of them aren't meeting up under those circumstances. Ironic, don't you think?

Claire tugged down the hem of her cherry colored gypsy shirt, taking in her appearance by glancing at the body mirror before her. Her admiral colored capris hugged the curves of her hips, layering the majority of her lean legs. The younger Redfield sibling grasped ahold of a strand of her auburn colored hair, twirling the tendrils with her finger. It's been some time since Claire had trimmed off the lower half of her hair, and there were more split ends than she could ever count.

But her attire wasn't her main concern, it was rather someone. She couldn't stop thinking about Leon. The way his voice sounded when she got ahold of him yesterday, all solemn and grim. Too melancholy for a self-sacrificing and considerate kind of man such as Leon Kennedy. She didn't notice it straight away when the dirty-blonde first answered the phone, only when he rapidly tried to mask his tone to sound more like his sanguine self. Claire knew something was wrong with him, not like his incessant need to casually flirt with a few of his female co-workers every now and then, but something majorly astray.

The younger Redfield sibling wouldn't be surprised at all if Leon had developed depression or PTSD from his time out in the field. It's not that she thought that her friend wasn't as Herculean and resolute as he appeared to be, Claire knew better than anyone about the things he's seen, the monsters he's faced (both human and inhuman), and the innocent blood that had been spilled at his feet. All of that was without a doubt capable of traumatizing anyone, even the children who still think that there's a monster hiding underneath their bed. If that were indeed the case, the signs would've been more obvious to the naked eye.

However, it was something else, something much more profound. Whatever it was, it must have been that bad to desolate Leon, and Claire had a gut feeling that it could've had something to do with Ada Wong. Even if she didn't have any actual proof that Ada was somehow responsible for Leon's downcast mood lately, the redhead was still determined to find out the cause, as well as how to cheer him up. She knew that she couldn't just ask Leon right off the bat why he hasn't been acting like his usual optimistic self as of lately, the next best thing she could do was do what friends usually do together: have fun.

The sound of the doorbell ringing pulled Claire from her thoughts, turning her head towards the front door. He's already here? Damn, I must have zoned out for longer than I thought. As the young woman exited her bedroom, making her way towards the front door, Claire halted halfway when she he had an uneasy feeling in her stomach; a gut feeling. Something isn't right, but what? I can only hope that it's not what I think it is...

Claire turned around and opened the closet door, pulling out her spare M1911 pistol stashed in between the blankets on the top shelf. The redhead felt a tad bit more safe with her gun in hand, quietly pulling back the hammer with her thumb and cocking the firearm. You can never be too sure nowadays. If there's one thing I've learned from experience, always trust your gut.

By the time Claire had reached the front door, she rapidly unlocked the door before opening it, seeing that no one was standing on the other side of the doorway. She quickly glanced down to her left then turned her head towards her right, seeing that there wasn't even a single soul in sight within the corridor. Just as Claire was about to close the door, her vibrant blue eyes landed on an envelope that was lying on top of her doormat; her name written elegantly in cursive on the piece of paper. Raising an eyebrow, the redhead kneeled down, picking up the envelope off the ground. Claire opened up the flap using her fingertip, taking out the note that was encased inside and reading it:

It's not over yet, Redfield.

Her eyes widened in shock right away. I need to get ahold of Leon and let him know— Claire's thoughts were cut short right as someone wrapped one arm around her waist, pinning her arms against her chest just as a drenched cloth had been pressed over her mouth and nose. The younger Redfield sibling violently thrashed in her captor's hold, her attempt to free herself suddenly came to an end as her vision started to blur and her limbs steadily becoming immobile. The smell of chloroform filled her nostrils straight away, sedating her and lulling the redhead into a deep sleep. Claire's legs felt like jello, losing her balance as well as her need to scream all while the calmative prompted her to fall unconscious in the gentleman's arms. The malefactor grinned wickedly, satisfied by how much easier it was than he anticipated to get his hands on the woman of his dreams.

* * *

The moment Leon parked his Ducati bike in the parking lot outside of the apartment complex Claire lived in, the cappuccino blonde sensed something amiss in the area. Usually there are more people bustling around in the business district of Raleigh, out and about doing their own thing in early afternoon. For some reason it was abnormally quiet, too noiseless for his liking. Leon's heightened sense of hearing and sight began to kick in; his baby blue eyes peering all around him as he strolled inside the apartment building. The one and only warning the DSO agent got about how precarious the situation had turned within a matter of seconds was the sight of the maimed body of the receptionist lying on the floor a couple feet away from her desk, the surface of her stomach ripped open as an undead cadaver feasted upon the young woman's bloody intestines.

As Leon closed the door behind him, the creature lifted its head, turning it in the agent's direction before steadily standing up and limping towards him. This is why you always come prepared. The government agent pulled out his SIG Sauer P226 automatic handgun out of his hidden shoulder holster underneath his leather jacket, aiming it at the BOW's head before pulling the trigger. The bullet rapidly penetrated the virus carrier's skull, killing the creature in that moment as the rotten corpse collapsed next to its leftover meal (which he then stabbed in the head with his combat knife to prevent her from resurrecting back from the dead). After barricading the double doors with a nearby bookshelf, Leon pulled out his smartphone, dialing Hunnigan's number and putting the call on speaker with a click of a button. The blonde's never been this glad in his life to have the FOS agent's work schedule, including her break times, committed to memory.

"Hey Leon, how's your vacation so—?"

"Listen to me Hunnigan, there isn't much time," The cappuccino blonde cut off the navigational technician, holding the phone with his left hand while using the other to aim his pistol in front of him. Leon carefully crept down the hallway, the silhouettes of multiple infected coming across his range of view. "There's been a outbreak, located in central Raleigh, North Carolina at the Jones Grant Urban Flats building on Wakeford Road. I've managed to blockade the main entrance for the time being, but I need you to call in for extra backup ASAP."

"Understood, I'm notifying the BSAA and the city police right now. Leon, do whatever it takes to contain the infection and don't let it spread past the complex," Hunnigan told the government agent, as she was notifying the proper city officials from her state of the art computer at her desk.

Leon rushed towards the third floor of the apartment building, taking out the vast majority of the infected along the way. Countless specks of dried blood covered the agent from head to toe, mementos of his engagement with the infected individuals. God... Please let Claire be okay... If it weren't for the gut feeling in his stomach nor the timing of the viral outbreak, Leon would've not been so worried about Claire. He was well aware that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, that's for sure. The fear of possibly losing her was what's putting him on edge; the very thought of it terrified him more than anything.

    Still, Leon remained calm and composed for the moment like his training taught him as he sprinted at full speed up the massive staircase. By the time the DSO agent reached her apartment on the third floor, the cappuccino blonde barged into her living quarters, failing to notice right away that the front door had been unlocked and partially left open.

"Claire? Claire! Where are you?!" The young man called out, searching all over the apartment from top to bottom for the missing redhead.

Worry and alarm had taken over his usually calm composure, impelling his need to find his best friend, hopefully not in pieces. The moment Leon stepped foot into the master bedroom, his stomach dropped; his widened eyes skimming over the words written on the far side of the wall in blood:

You're too late, Leon. She's all mines now...