A Star's Descent

Prologue: The Red Death

A Star's Descent

By evolution-500

Cover by NaiveWriter (aka Multifreak99 on Deviantart)

Disclaimer: House of the Dead and Resident Evil are properties belonging to SEGA and Capcom respectively. I do not own any of these characters.

WARNING: This story contains violence, course language, disturbing themes and imagery. Reader discretion is advised.

Prologue: The Red Death

July 23rd, 1998

Darkness and decay had begun to settle within the Arklay Mountain region in Colorado.

Roughly fifty miles west of the Rockies, it was an isolated and relatively untouched section of the Midwest that was frequently used as a site of interest for the small town of Raccoon City during tourist season. 

For anyone that had visited the area during the summer, before the time of rigorously enforced curfews, sightings of strange men in white, and other questionable oddities, the mountains were said to have provided a soothing and comforting image of tranquility, their sublime features often equated with that of a kind and watchful uncle by the locals.

And yet, for all of their colorful if not romantic descriptions that they had laid out in the past, the attitudes the townspeople shared in the present were becoming increasingly unfavorable due to recent events. 

There lingered an uncannily dismal and sordid air about them, looming ominously over Raccoon Forest as well as the town despite it being thirty-five miles further to the south. Instead of providing the idyllic promise of paradise and protection, the lands were now seen as something dark and foreboding. 

The tall peaks became equated with tombstones, solemn warning signs for all who dared to venture in. 

Hardly anyone was able to account for the change in atmosphere and for the startling acts of violence committed there, save for bits of gossip and local legendry. What was agreed upon was that there was some sort of corruption at work. Whether it was physical or metaphysical in nature, one would not be able to say with certainty.

On this particular night, there came a troubling suggestion of hubris, as if the very fabrics of space and time were slowly being unraveled to mark the beginning of something horrid.

Trees bristled fiercely within the breeze.

On a small hill, nearby the forest, an open field of flowers could be found with the tell-tale signs of this oncoming miasma.

Once, it was a place of indescribable beauty and elegance with its amazing array of colors. In recent times, though, this miasma had taken its toll on the area, rendering the field into a ghoulish necropolis.

A single raindrop landed onto a red wilted flower, its pitiful few and discolored petals twitching slightly. Gone was its splendor, and in its place was a hideous gnarled hand. 

As drops gently cascaded down, the leaves of the malformed flowers twitched slightly upward as the wind picked up, swaying them to and fro in unnatural harmony. They clawed at the sky, as if desperately seeking Heaven's solace in some vain attempt to rid themselves of whatever affliction had hindered them.

The moon gleamed brightly over one of the tallest peaks as a secondary light, though much smaller and manmade in origin, made its way through the dark wood. A powerful engine moved it continuously forward, driving it relentlessly toward the lonely town of Raccoon City.