RESIDENT EVIL: THE SHADOWS OF UMBRELLA

Chapter 3

Arman's footsteps echoed as he moved cautiously down the blood-streaked corridor, each step echoing into a silence so thick it was suffocating. The lobby had been eerie enough, with the bodies of fallen officers littering the room, their hollow eyes and bloodied uniforms a testament to the horror that had overtaken Raccoon City. But now, deeper within the police station's winding halls, he was struck by the bleak stillness, where only the faintest of distant growls reminded him that death lurked around every corner. He could feel his own pulse thrumming in his ears, a rhythmic beat of survival instinct, pounding faster with every creak of the old building.

As he moved, Dennie began talking in a low voice, perhaps trying to ease the tension gnawing at them both. "You know, it's crazy... that new recruit, Leon—he was supposed to start his first shift today," Dennie muttered, glancing back at Arman. "Hell of a first day to show up, huh? Kid probably had no idea what he was walking into... just wanted to wear that badge."

Arman forced a tight smile, trying to push the dread aside. "A first day he'll never forget... if he's even still alive," he replied. His voice had an edge of bitterness, memories of his ex-wife flashing through his mind, the tension they'd lived with for years in a city rife with corruption and secrets. "I remember when I was new to Raccoon City... my ex-wife was a cop with S.T.A.R.S. back then. She... well, we had our own set of problems." His words trailed off as the weight of their unresolved past settled over him like a dark cloud.

Dennie's eyes softened for a moment. "S.T.A.R.S., huh? Damn... that's one tough squad. You think she...?"

Arman didn't reply immediately, his jaw tightening as a flood of memories returned. "I don't know. She was... strong. Tougher than most. But this... this is different," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "If she didn't make it... maybe it's for the best. This isn't something you just live through."

Dennie nodded, glancing away as if to give Arman a sliver of privacy in his grief. "This whole place," Dennie murmured, his voice heavy with despair, "it's like it's cursed. Every damn hallway... you can almost feel it, like the walls know what's coming." He shook his head, pausing for a moment as they stepped over the body of a young officer, her face frozen in a silent scream, blood dried across her face and pooling beneath her lifeless form.

As they moved farther into the darkness, Dennie muttered, "So you know Chief Irons?"

Arman's lips curled in a sneer. "Irons," he spat, the name like poison on his tongue. "That disgusting, corrupt bastard... sold this city out, sold his soul long ago. Bribes, cover-ups, god knows what else... he's the reason so much of this could even happen. I... if anyone deserves to be here, it's him." His eyes were dark, and his voice held a fury barely contained.

Dennie, noting the intense venom in Arman's voice, hesitated. But as they rounded a corner, he turned to Arman, a concerned look crossing his face. "Arman... I gotta ask you," he began, glancing up and down the hallway, "you seem to know a lot about... well, more than most people about all this stuff. You weren't involved in any of this, were you?"

Arman opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak, an unnatural, slicing noise echoed down the corridor, a whip-like crack that made his stomach drop. In an instant, a long, sinewy tongue shot out from the darkness, wrapping around Dennie's shoulder with horrifying speed. The tongue tightened, pulling him backward, his scream filling the hallway.

Arman's heart thundered as he recognized the threat—a Licker. His hand flew to his gun, but he knew it was too late. The creature was already pulling Dennie out of sight, its claws scraping against the tiles as it dragged him into the darkness. Dennie's agonized screams filled the air, echoing off the cold stone walls as Arman struggled to keep himself composed.