Enter the world of survival horror...
Raccoon City: a remote mountain community suddenly besieged by a rash of
grisly murders encroaching upon it from the surrounding forest. Bizarre
reports start to spread, describing attacks from vicious creatures, some
human... some not. Victims are apparently eaten.
At the epicenter of these deaths is a dark, secluded mansion belonging to
the mysterious Umbrella Corporation. For years Umbrella has labored within
the mansion, unwatched, ostensibly conducting benign genetic research.
Deployed to investigate the strange goings-on is the Special Tactics and
Rescue Squad (S.T.A.R.S.), an unusual paramilitary response unit boasting an
eclectic assortment of mission specialists: roguish Chris Redfield, former
cat burglar Jill Valentine, dead-eye Barry Burton, and the enigmatic team
leader, Albert Wesker. Together with the other S..T.A.R.S. operatives, they
have good reason to believe they’re ready for anything.
But what unfolds as the S.T.A.R.S. penetrate the mansion’s long-locked doors
is terror beyond their worst nightmares: creatures that defy the laws of
life and death—the result of forbidden experiments gone disastrously wrong.
Behind it all is a conspiracy so vast in its scope and so insidious in its
agenda that the S.T.A.R.S. will be betrayed from within to ensure that the
world never learns Umbrella’s secret. And if any survive…they may well come
to envy those who do not.
Wesker took a single step toward the slaughter in front of them--when all around, deep, echoing howls filled the warm night air, shrill
voices of predatorial fury coming at the S.T.A.R.S. from all direction.
"Back to the 'copter, now!" Wesker shouted.
Chris ran, Barry and Jill in front of him and Wesker bringing up the
rear. The four of them sprinted through dark trees, unseen branches slapping
at them as the howls grew louder, more insistent.
Wesker turned and fired blindly into the woods as they stumbled toward
the waiting helicopter, its blades already spinning. Chris felt relief sweep
through him; Brad must have heard the shots. They still had a chance....
Chris could hear the creatures behind them now, the sharp rustling of
lean, muscular bodies tearing through the trees. He could also see Brad's
pale, wide-eyed face through the glass front of the 'copter, the reflected
lights of the control panel casting a greenish glow across his panicked
features. He was shouting something, but the roar of the engine drowned out
everything now, the blast of wind churning the field into a rippling sea.
Another fifty feet, almost there—
Suddenly, the helicopter jerked into the air, accelerating wildly. Chris
caught a final glimpse of Brad’s face and could see the blind terror there,
the unthinking panic that had gripped him as he clawed at the controls.
"No! Don’t go!" Chris screamed, but the wobbling rails were already out
of reach, the 'copter pitching forward and away from them through the
They were going to die.
Content provided by: Albus Dumbledore