On the outskirts of Raccoon City the wind is strong and very cold; the speed and strength give it an ominous sound like an animal howling. The forest leaves rustle to and fro through the dark green grass blades. Through small breaks in the clouds beams of moonlight shoot down upon a forgotten place. Surprisingly enough a mansion stands among these elements but not in contrast to them. This residence melds into the dark environment perfectly.

The mansion is styled after the Victorian homes of the early nineteen hundreds. Except in comparison to those beautiful homes this abode quite abnormal; it is in fact a laboratory in disguise. Funded by an international company invested in every area of biological research thinkable to man. The company's name is Umbrella and it owns the goliath of a mansion. Perhaps it named itself Umbrella because like an umbrella it overlays space; casting it's shadow over it's domain. It keeps control and conducts many different biological studies and experiments. So powerful and vast is this company that many agencies including some of our own U.S. government agencies seek it out for inquiries on its recent tests and studies.

Not much information is available on what types of experiments Umbrella undertakes. What is known is that the F.B.I. tries to keep a close eye on the kinds of studies Umbrella pursues. In the 1960's the U.S. Government seriously explored genetic engineering in order to make a superhuman soldier. Umbrella supplied the Government with study upon study of information on the very subject, which made very many top-government officials nervous. This lead up to an all out investigation into umbrellas secret files and experiments. Mysteriously just after this time, two of Umbrella's secluded laboratories burned down while an avalanche destroyed a third. Ron McCarty, a high-ranking employee of Umbrella and also the man in charge of working alongside the Government died in a peculiar house robbery gone badly.

Many other strange things occurred around that time of investigation, but never could Umbrella be directly linked to the strange coincidental happenings. All the preceding events were covered by different newspapers but none of it made front-page material on account that neither Umbrella nor the F.B.I. would divulge much information about the timely disasters. Naturally the stories didn't make front-page news. Indirectly Umbrella has been making news again (at least in Raccoon City), except this time it's front-page material.

Raccoon City Chronicle December 30, 2000


(The Raccoon City Chronicle reported a man claimed to have escaped from a hidden mansion located in a nearby forest just outside of Raccoon City limits. Dr. Furuli gives us some information as to what ails the possibly victimized man).... "Not much is known about the patient because he has been suffering a very high fever aside from other ailments. As to his name I cannot give out that information at this time." "Most of the patient's external injuries consist of what looks like sloppy scalpel incisions and his internal injuries are even less serious. There's no way to know how the patient received his external injuries since he is having much trouble breathing right now. I've contacted the police and I'll report any information necessary to help justice be served. In my professional opinion this man has been seriously abused." says doctor Furuli of St. Joseph's Hospital. "That being the case, if this man continues in this state of health, I'm afraid that he'll never get to tell us what has happened to him." Special unit S.T.A.R.S. (Special Tactics And Rescue Squad) of the Raccoon City Police Department will begin an investigation to uncover if any unlawful activity that has been committed."

Chapter 1

As doctor Furuli woke up next to his wife Susan in his oak bed, he began to think about his patient back at St. Joseph's Hospital. "What a strange fellow." Furuli muttered to himself. He began to contemplate his patient's abrupt entrance into the hospital a couple of nights ago. If he wasn't mistaken the occurrence happened at about 1:30 A.M in the morning. Another mutter. "Just where did you come from my friend?"

"What's that dear? Did you say something Jim? Susan spoke to her husband while half asleep.

"I'm fine, I was just thinking of one of my patients at the hospital. A strange man came in and I can't figure out what's making him so sick."

Concerned with her husband's tone Susan began to wake. She turned her head to face her husband and said. "What's the man's name? Does he have a disease?"

Exasperated over the matter Jim responded. "For now it's John Doe, he doesn't seem to have any diseases though. Funny thing is the man displays symptoms of something like leprosy except not as severe. I just don't know what it is that's causing his condition! Anyhow, I think that maybe for today I'll go into work a little bit earlier than usual just to see how he's doing. In fact, I think I'll call the hospital right now and see if he's at least stabilized. Why don't you cook an early breakfast this morning, it might be a long day for me at work." While talking to his wife Furuli had already sat up and swung his legs over the end of the bead to put his slippers on. He got up from the comfortable bed as he did every morning and made his way to the restroom to relieve himself. Afterwards he walked over to the nightstand on his side of the bed and sat down besides the telephone. He then grabbed the phone's receiver and started dialing the hospital's phone number.

Meanwhile Susan began to make their breakfast. She quickly glanced at her watch and had to look again to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. "Five thirty!" Susan still in her tired state opened the refrigerator and got out 5 eggs, a package of bacon and a bottle of juice and closed the door behind her. She went through the familiar motions of preparing breakfast; cracking the eggs with a chef's speed and stirring yolk in a small bowl adding pepper and salt for flavor. She looked outside her window into her backyard and checked if lawn chairs had fallen over during last night's strong wind. The wind always kicked up around this time of the year but not usually as strong as last night. She began to hum her favorite tunes to herself as she sometimes did while cooking or baking. Susan started this little ritual of humming and cooking when she first started cooking with her mother. The aroma of freshly baked cookies would fill the kitchen and her father and brothers would come in and taste test the finished products. The satisfaction would come when everyone would tell her how good the cookies tasted. Thinking out loud Susan reminded herself. "Forgot the toast." She placed the bowl down on the kitchen counter and slid open the panel to the small breadbox that was also on the counter. Pulled out four pieces of sour dough bread from the plastic bag. Opened the refrigerator and got out the butter from its small plastic compartment and swung the metal refrigerator door closed. After buttering the bread, she put the four pieces of bread into the toaster. She grabbed the pan she would be using for the bacon and put it on the oven to heat up. Tore off some bacon slices and put them on the pan to cook. Susan's humming stopped because her sleepiness hadn't fully died out. Absent-mindedly she stirred away at the eggs losing thought and letting her eyelids drop down. The kitchen was silent except for the turning of the spoon in Susan's' hands when the sound happened. Behind Susan came a slow grating yowl sounding like an old man moaning. By instinct Susan's breath froze and she spun around in a semi-circle to look at whatever it was that had made the horrible noise. There on the kitchen table's chair was Jim who had pulled a chair out from the breakfast table and had sat down. Now looking at his wife half amused and half apologetic.

"Sorry dear, I didn't mean to scare you." Now looking truly apologetic.

"It's nothing, you just surprised me while I was half asleep is all," said Susan in a somewhat shaky voice, now trying to get her mind on cooking again. "Did you make the call to the hospital? What did they say?"

Displaying a puzzled face Jim answered. "They didn't say anything. I didn't get through, the lines are still because of the damn wind."

Still curious his wife asked. "Why is this patient so important so that you want to go into work early? Unless you do think he has a disease."

Jim shifted in his chair pondering on that very same question and trying not to show it. "I'm not sure, the whole occurrence was just so strange. A man who nobody knows comes into the hospital in the middle of the night with some small injuries and an awkward skin condition; one that I've never seen in all my years as a doctor. His skin looked somewhat familiar to a mild case of leprosy. That's not what it was; I'm positive of that. Practically all of our best doctors took a look at him and they were all baffled!"

Jim looked at his wife questioningly for a few seconds and then continued. "Also when the man came in he was coherent, coherent enough to speak a few words and walk on his own but the last time I checked him he was in and out of consciousness. The poor man looks so emaciated. His skin has a strange texture; cracked but greasy, most of all though is that it looked infected.

By now Susan had pulled up a chair and was sitting across from her husband. "For goodness sake Jim what if it's contagious? If you don't know what it is then it could be contagious. Please tell me you were wearing a mask and gloves while you were checking him.

Jim began to feel unsure about having told his wife as much as he did. He thought Susan was a squeamish woman and got nervous too easily. He knew he had to keep the worst part of the occurrence to himself, at least for now. "Don't worry I'm a doctor, of course I wore a mask and gloves. Do you think I'm crazy?" Actually the only protection Jim used that day was his seatbelt on his way to and from work but he wasn't going to worry his wife if it wasn't necessary. Besides he thought. What are the chances of a strange man coming into a hospital in the middle of the night carrying a disease that no one has ever heard of?

As a final warning Susan warned her husband. "You be safe, don't get to close to him if you don't have to, I don't want no leprosy you hear me?"

"Don't worry it's not leprosy and it's not contagious." Jim wished his wife wouldn't suffer too much while he would be at work. He became a little indignant with himself for agitating his wife the way he just did. What purpose did it serve? It wasn't like she was a colleague of his. She couldn't discuss treatments with him or possible illnesses; it was a vain action on his part. The only purpose being entertained was having the freedom of thinking out loud. Which in a way relieved some of his stress on the problem. One matter was settled; he wouldn't make things worse by discussing the subject any further. Instead he would change the topic all together. While trying to look and sound believable he inquired. "How are those eggs coming along?"

Susan's eyes opened wide. "Oops, I forgot" She got up quickly from her chair picked up a spatula from off the kitchen counter and stirred the lightly burning eggs. "Just another minute and they'll be done."

Dreamily half in thought Jim concluded. "Sounds good dear." And then returned to his analysis of that night's events. Just what did happen that night? Am I making too much of this? Maybe I am, but what if I'm not? Good God what if it is contagious? Diseases don't come out of nowhere; whatever it is it's not a disease, that much is for sure!

"Do you want butter and Jelly with your toast?" His wife was now looking at him with an interested countenance and a hint of a forced smile. "Are you falling back to sleep or are you thinking of your patient again?"

Jim reassured his wife. "Oh me? I'm fine; you were right the first time. I'm just a little sleepy that's all." Jim thought if he could get himself to lie down for a little while after his breakfast then he could make sure his wife wouldn't get too anxious while he was away at work. He would act as if the situation wasn't really as serious as he had first made it sound. He might be in suspense but at least his wife wouldn't worry. Furuli thought. Not too long though, maybe half an hour or forty five minutes at the most but not a minute longer.

After breakfast Jim lied down next to his wife who fell asleep almost immediately after her head touched the pillow. He would wait until he felt confident she was in a deep sleep before he made so much as a movement. While laying in his comfortable king sized bed Furuli played that night's events over in his head like a movie.

It was before two in the morning and things were quiet. Dr. Furuli was performing night shift, as he sometimes did but not much after gaining seniority at the hospital. After quite a few years of work (and if you were at least 40 years old) the board relaxed with their faithful employees and added a couple days more vacation to your so far accumulated time off. Since though there are always exceptions to the rule Dr. Furuli happened to be working that night at the hospital. He was in a conference room with the patents of one of the patients. The conference room was the room Doctors discussed matters with the relatives of patients who needed surgery or in some cases the amount of time a patient had to live. Dr. Furuli had to give that piece of news to one father and mother of one little boy who had fallen off the monkey bars while playing at school. The boy was at the top of the jungle bars when his grip gave way and he crashed his head on two bars before falling to the floor unconscious. The particular case he was now working on didn't involve such gruesome details but there was a topic of surgery that needed to be discussed. A 13-year-old boy thought he could ride his bike down a steep hill and brake at the last minute. Unfortunate for him it wasn't possible and neither could a motorist stop his vehicle before slamming into the young bicyclist. The patient suffered a shattered femur and 3 broken ribs, he also sustained some lacerations and bruises but not serious. He would need 2 pins in his leg for a year before he could be fully well again. Dr. Furuli was going over the procedures for the operation when a hunched over man abruptly staggered into the hospital. His posture reminded Furuli of Frankenstein's assistant Igor. Of note was the man's lack of cleanliness; from head to toe the man's clothes were grimy as if he had been rolling around in dirt before coming in. "Perhaps he was in a car accident." Furuli had thought. "Excuse me for a moment there's a patient who looks like he's just been in an accident." Furuli told the parents while leaving the conference room. The parents didn't seem to notice the doctor's absence and began speaking to one another about who would take care of their son while they would be at work. By the time Furuli made it out the door the stranger had collapsed on the floor crying for help. The man's cries sounded muffled and unclear and came out sounding like "aelp". A medic who was on a break and had been talking to one of the nurses ran to the collapsed man and checked his vital signs. He called out for a gurney and asked the closest nurse to him to assist with an i.v. insertion. He continued to speak in medical jargon to the surrounding nurses about doses and chemicals while wheeling the patient down to an operating room. Dr. Furuli decided that he would finish his meeting with the parents in the conference room. He figured if he could later remember he would ask about the man who had made the strange appearance.

Dr. Furuli had just finished explaining the technicalities of the operation the parent's son would need to heal properly. The conference went well and the parents seemed comforted by Furuli's kind patients and detailed explanations. Furuli was one type of doctor but here were some doctors who could be ruthless in the conference room. Furuli avoided those particular colleagues for obvious reasons, they were no more inclined to be kind to their patients then they were to be friendly towards other doctors other than their sort. Furuli liked to take his time explaining and consoling patients and relatives. He took no joy in rushing through procedures or cramming a maximum amount of patients in small time frame to make money. He was well aware other people needed to be shown attention so he didn't believe in lagging either; slow and steady, moderation in all things was a motto he held dear. The parents were satisfied with Furuli's explanations and stated talking among themselves when Furuli thought he'd leave them to discuss matters for a bit. When Furuli closed the door he noticed a group of six doctors standing outside the conference room. One of them was Dr. Edward Delvon the head doctor at St. Josephs Hospital; he was in the middle of a semi-circle of the other doctors of the hospital. They seemed to be discussing some matters of grave importance. Dr. Furuli was about to walk towards the men's restroom when one of the doctors by the name Alex Burton called him over.

"Oh, Dr. Furuli perhaps you may be of some assistance. We're having a problem with one of the patients. This patient seems to have a peculiar skin infection among other complications that have us confused, do you think you can have a look at him and tell us what you think? The patient is in room 607." Dr. Furuli became intrigued. "How serious is it? "You'll have to look for yourself, It'll be easier to understand… trust me. One thing I can tell you is that he's running a very high fever and he was rambling on and on. We've medicated him of course so when you go to see him maybe you can try asking him for his name? We couldn't understand what he was trying to say." Dr. Furuli's curiosity was now double fold. "Has Delvon taken a look?" With an embarrassed look Dr. Burton said. "Yes, he thought we might have to bring in outside help for this one. It sure is a duzie." Furuli was surprised none of the six doctors could diagnose the patient especially Dr. Delvon. Furuli thought the patient must have had a very uncommon strain of virus on his hands if even the head doctor of the hospital couldn't diagnose the problem. "What chance do I have if Delvon couldn't figure it out?" Alex searched for the only answer he could think of. "I don't know but you should have a look anyway."

With a sigh Dr. Furuli began his short trek to room 607. It was on the third floor so he would have to take the elevator. He stood in front of the mirror like doors and pushed the button with an arrow pointing upward and waited for the little bell to sound. As he waited he ran over the names of skin diseases that could be possibilities. Furuli though. "I should have asked whether he has blotches on his skin or if his whole body is covered in the infection. It must be blotches because I don't know anything that would cover all his skin. It would be terminal like leprosy but it isn't leprosy because that's easily enough identifiable. There was a sudden ring and Dr. Furuli walked into the big empty elevator lost in thought. Once in the elevator Furuli abandoned his efforts towards making any more unnecessary postulations. Furuli waited.

The door made its slow mechanical opening and Dr. Furuli stepped out and made his walk down the long and quiet hallway. He pushed open the double doors to the critical wing section of the hospital. As he walked down the hall he checked the little plaques next to the room doors. He stopped at room 607 and looked inside.

The lights had been turned off completely and there were no noises to be heard except for the vital reading equipment in the corner with its green waves entering on the left side of the screen and exiting on the right. Furuli didn't know what to say since there hadn't been very many John Does in the hospital. He spoke just above a whisper's tone. "Sir? Are you awake?" A moment or two passed and Furuli wondered whether he should forget about trying to diagnose the patient or not. He decided otherwise and spoke again but with more force. "Excuse me. Hello my name is Dr. Furuli and I'd like to take a look at you and see how you're getting along." He stopped to see if there would be a response. There was a slight moan from the middle of the room. Furuli had just entered the room and couldn't see much except a silhouette of the room's bed. A voice grew from amidst the moan and the patient of room 607 spoke. "Light hurts." Except it came out as "LLigghhhtt hhhhurrts." "I see, well I'm going to have to turn them on for a little bit so I could see what's the problem. I'm reaching for the switch right now so close your eyes." Furuli looked like a mime feeling at a barrier, he was trying to find the switch with both hands and having a hard time at it. A few more seconds and one of the two rows of lights flashed on and the patient made a moan of agony. "I won't leave it on for long Sir." He walked over to the man whose eyes were tightly shut. He found the patients chart and the end of the bed and opened it. Of course it showed the man's name as John Doe, not much help there. It also showed that his lungs were weak and very infected, filled with mucus and not allowing to breath. A very skinny plastic tube went down the man's throat draining the poisonous fluid. There wasn't anything else of use on the form; the rest let him know the different treatments he was receiving but not much else. Furuli walked back to the patient's side and took a good look at the man's face and exposed skin. There were what seemed to be dark brown rashes all over his face and arms. There were small places on his body uncovered by flesh. He had a faint smell of gangrene and he looked very malnourished. Furuli was relieved the patient's eyes were closed because he couldn't help but make a face of disgust. In all his years as a doctor he had never seen any other skin-deteriorating diseases besides Leprosy and a few other skin illnesses that brought about such destruction. {Add in how Leprosy (and the other forms of diseases) looks and how this couldn't be leprosy. Perhaps this is a form of it he thinks.} Dr. Furuli was mentally thrown back and knew the patient would have to be examined somewhere else. Someplace else but he had no idea where that place would be; Delvon would know. Furuli figured the least he could do was find out how the man contracted such a disease and let whoever takes charge know what he had found. "Excuse me sir but how did you get this way? Do you know how this happened to you? Did you get it from someone?" Furuli could see the man's eyes swimming back and forth behind closed eyelids in thought. "Experiments in the woods. At a house. They tricked me." His words were forced and hard to understand, he sounded very much out of breath. Furuli remembered the high fever and so dismissed the ramblings. He went to the counter next to the small room's entrance to get a disposable thermometer. While getting the thermometer Furuli put on gloves and a face mask. He had no idea what the man was suffering and didn't want whatever it was. Walking towards the bed Furuli said. "I'm going to put a thermometer under your tongue." Again Furuli was glad the patient's eyes were closed because his hands were a bit shaky at the thought of having the virus swimming through his veins at that very moment. He couldn't help but imagine he and his wife lying down in hospital beds with the same exact disease. Furuli put the thermometer to the man's mouth and said. "Ok are you ready for the thermometer... By the way you didn't have a wallet on you I don't even know your name. Can you tell me your name? A short period passed in silence as Dr. Furuli waited for a response. The small plastic wire in the man's mouth made speech even more difficult and undoubtedly much more uncomfortable. With a hard T the man said, "Trent" and started to have a coughing fit. Dark brown liquid filled the small plastic tube and made it's way to a plastic bag besides the bed. Furuli knew a wider tube would have to be used or the man would eventually suffocate. Furuli asked the man to relax or the fit would get worse and eventually the man's spasms subsided. "What is your last name sir? Taking as deep of a breath as his lungs would allow he said, "Fore… and coughed loudly and then said "…man". "Trent Foreman you say?" No response just heavy breathing. Furuli grabbed the chart again and made the notation of the man's name. Before he put the chart down he noticed that when the man came in he had a temperature of a hundred and two. Furuli resumed his position besides the man's side and asked. Can you please open your mouth Mr. Foreman? Trent made no effort to respond. He only lay there in what looked like a great amount of pain. Dr. Furuli started to feel inadequate for his ailing patient. "Mr. Foreman...Trent… I can't help you if...." Trent seemed jump started by the word help. In a quiet monotone whisper the man spoke in harsh breaths. "Help me…call the police. Doctors made me sick. Evil men in those woods." Anxiety gripped Furuli. It's the fever talking. "Who made you sick?" The patient looked at a loss for words. "Men in white coats…like you. Scientists! On State Street, large complex." Such statements could not be ignored. There were basic laws to be taken into consideration like contacting police when a patient expressed signs of victimization of any form of abuse. Definitely this situation fell under those such circumstances. In a consoling voice Dr. Furuli told Trent. "I'll take care of that matter Mr. Foreman, for now lift up your tongue." Trent obeyed and Furuli slid the plastic thermometer under Mr. Trent's sickening tongue. Meanwhile Furuli unwrapped his stethoscope from around his neck and put it on. "I'm going to check your breathing alright? I'll have to remove your rob partially, don't worry I'll be out of here and let you rest soon enough. I won't forget to turn off the light when I'm finished either." Furuli undid the robe's fast, which was quite thin and then pulled it down to the man's elbows. To Dr. Furuli's sickening horror was realized as he saw small and large scars up and down Trent's decrepit torso. The more he observed Trent the more Furuli believed Trent was part of some demented crime. The scars were made with a very sharp utensil but done in a sloppy almost careless fashion. Furuli forced his attention on hearing in on the man's lungs. Trent's story sounded fanciful but those scars screamed malevolence. "This might be cold but bare with it Trent." There were more eye movements. Furuli listened to the man's lungs with dark premonition. His lungs were heavily burdened down by infectious mucus. It was surprising Trent could speak at all. Though it did account for his concise answers. Furuli felt a loss of hope. "I'll be needing this." Furuli mumbled while extracting the thermometer from Trent's mouth. His fever was down a couple of degrees. That much was good to see but as far as Furuli could tell everything else the man could be offered was already being administered to him. Except for maybe a larger tube to clear out Trent's lungs, something Furuli would soon remedy. For now the best help for Trent would probably calling the authorities. "Mr. Foreman, I think I've looked at you enough for now. I'll probably return later on to see how you're doing. Take this." While saying this Furuli had put Trent's robe back on. He then handed Trent a small plastic cylinder with a red button sticking out of the top and a thin wire coming out the bottom and going into the wall. "This'll call a nurse if you should need anything. I'm going to turn off the light now." With that said Furuli slowly made his way towards the light switch looked back at Trent and shut the lights off.

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