September 23, 1998, 7:20pm

The three men in orange jumpsuits, the words DOUGLAS PRISON having been stitched upon the back, were readily grouping around a woman cowering in the back of the alley.  It had been a long walk after the weakened security and two old guards became no match for them in escaping, especially with recent events forcing police attention elsewhere in desperate times of need.
Two of the prisoners were pale-skinned, one with a large hand-made serrated blade while the other held a tire iron.  Their much-darker-skinned friend stood behind them at the same height holding a solid baseball bat, which eagerly dripped red from a previous victim.
	"Awwww come on girl," said the blade-wielding prisoner, "been so lonesome up in that ol' prison I need a li'l love.  But I reformed, don' worry."
	"K-keep away, please, I-i have money if you need it, just don't touch me!"
	"Whaaaa-come on, I don' need no money, nobody gonna take money from me.  Nah I need sumthin' real nice to feel good about myself.  Come on, get up now."
She did not respond until the one with the tire iron snarled:
	"Get.  The fuck.  Up."
The mid-30s woman fearfully stood at such a command, shivering in her sweater and plain slacks with a ponytail of brown hair drooping down her back.  The convict with the knife smiled and petted her shoulder.
	"Theeeere girl, that weren't bad now weren't it?  Now how about you turn around and show me that ass?"
	"B-but...please, don't do this, I won't say anything, I-"
	"You better not say anything," said the one with the tire iron, "won' help you much when we'll keep yer mouth busy tonight.  You like dark meat or white?"
	"Wh-what do you-NO, please!"
	"What, you don' like my friend back here?  You sum kinda fuckin' racist, bitch?!"
	"NO, I-i'm sure he's a nice man, all of you are, just please!"
	"Heh," said the knife-wielder, "she called us nice.  Hehehehe...that's whut that store owner thought before I slit her face off, shoulda let me drink my beer withou' pissin' me off.  Now...if you don' drop yerself down an' show yer ass like a good li'l pussy...then I'm gonna open up a new hole in ya to fuck...you get me?"
	"HEY!"
A voice called out from behind the four of them.  A tall black shadow that stood within darkness commanding:
	"Leave thuh girl alone.  Now."
The woman was desperate for any way out, screaming:
	"HELP ME!  PLEASE HELP ME!"
	"SHUT UP BITCH!"

A crack of the tire iron shut her up as she fell to the ground, blood running from her jaw as she sobbed and shivered in the glowing streetlight.  The men all turned, as the knife-wielder snarled out:
	"The fuck are you, stay outta this, this is our girl!"
	"That girl ain't yers or anyone else's," said the stranger.  "You better get the fuck outta here righ' now or ahma make sure you never leave this alley."
	"Heh, wanna bet?  Whut are ya, sum kinda cop?!"
	"Nope."
The shadow walked closer, and as soon as he was revealed the convicts stepped back.  A huge black reptile, standing at 6'5'', wearing a grey hoodie that read "PARK WEST", his pale blue eyes marked by blue rings around them.  Dark slacks covered his legs, ending in thick vicious toeclaws.
	"But ahm just as good as one."
	"The fuck, whut the fuck's this shit?!"
	"Probably just a costume," said the tire-iron wielder, "don' be stupid."
	"B-but whut about all that shit that's been goin' on, whut if he-"
	"DON' FUCKING CARE, I AIN' LETTIN' NUTHIN' STOP ME FROM GETTING SOMEONE TO SUCK MAH DICK, NOT EVEN A FUCKIN' PRICK LIKE THIS GUY!  Think yer a fuckin' hero or sumthin'!?"
	"Depends on if yer gonna be thuh villains," said the stranger.  "Release thuh girl or ah'll be forced to kill you.  This is yer last chance."
	"An' who the FUCK are you, dino-boy?!"
	"Mah name is Roy MacGregor..."
With one swing of his arm, he pulled from his back a large blade, swinging down onto the stone with a spark of metal.
	"Knight of Daventry."
The blade was 5 foot long with a lean edge and a name hard to make out upon the side of it, as well as another upon the surprisingly-strong wood-crafted handle.  Two rings glinted slightly in the streetlight upon his left hand, one white and one silver.  The two white guys staggered back with fear at the gigantic weapon.
	"HOLY FUCK!"
	"DUDE GOT A HUGE-ASS SHIV!"
	"Ah don' care."
The black guy in the group walked forwards with his baseball bat, speaking in a southern drawl whilst tapping the wooden bat on his shoulder.
	"He just scarin' us, probably sum kin'a fake."
	"You wanna bet?" said Roy.
	"Ah don' bet.  Bettin's a sin."
	"So's rape an' murder, you makin' a confession or whut?"
	"Ahll make one after ah kill yer yankee ass."
	"Hah, yankee?  Aw now you done it.  I gave you a chance, an' you just throw it away like nuthin'.  You wan' that girl, you gotta kill me first."
	"Thet can be easily arranged, citeh boy."

The convict with the bat came charging towards Roy, pounding the pavement with heavy boots before the raptor dodged to one side and slammed a fist into the back of the prisoner's head.  Barely stunned, he swung his bat behind him to try and catch Roy on the backswing, but he had anticipated it and moved backwards, swinging his blade down with both hands hard across the convict's back.  The tip of the blade caught some of the skin beneath the jumpsuit, slashing it open to bring forth a juicy purpling welt across dark brown skin.
Hearing their friend roar with pain, the other two tried to sideline into Roy by pincer movement, before being forced to stop by a sudden spinning slice as Roy swung in a circle to make them back off.  Using the momentum of his weighty blade, he shot out one hand a thick blast of icy mist, solidifying enough to slam into the knife-wielder's chest like a football, almost dry heaving from the pain.
	"HUUUHHHH!"
	"THE FUCK WAS THAT!?"
	"J-JUST KILL 'IM, FUCKIN' SHIT!"
The sole remaining thug with the tire iron ran forwards in a panic, seeing a chance to crack across Roy's skull as his momentum slowed down forcing him to stop.  The bent iron bar swung over his head, as the raptor ducked and slammed his fist into the criminal's gut, forcing him to bend over before he stabbed his head with the blunt handle of his Great Knife.  The convict screamed and fell back against the alleywall, a splitting headache coming to him before the raptor heard a heavier pair of footsteps come running.
Unable to bring his own heavier weapon up in time, he misjudged the direction of the bat's swing and took the tip of it across his shoulder, cracking hard as he stumbled in one direction, grunting hard with blade dragging behind him.  The black thug saw an opportunity to kill, swinging down hard towards Roy who already threw up his blade in time to resist.  The wood pinged off the metal sword, throwing the convict back from the recoil before Roy shoved him hard with the flat of the blade.  With one body spin, he swung his blade over his head and cleaved his foe.
	"JESUS CHRIST!"
	"F-FUCK, BYRON!"
Byron did not respond, having his entire midsection sliced in half from split stomach to cracked spine, splayed out in a violent explosion from the pressuring weight of the huge knife-shaped sword.  Roy simply turned and waited to see which of his last two enemies would try to fight him next.  The one with the knife turned desperate, running forwards with a screaming fury as his quicker blade went straight for Roy's gut, stabbing straight into the belly.

A clink of metal came from beneath the black raptor's hoodie, smiling as he simply kicked the convict forcefully in the gut.  The toeclaws dug in, pulling slightly at flesh as the thug panicked and screamed with a dulling vision at smaller wounds.  He didn't even get a chance to look up and see the raptor swing his Great Knife straight for the neck.  The blade carved through the throat, tugging the spine out slightly as the head became severed to fall onto the ground.  The body crumpled afterwards in spasming death.
Only the tire-iron wielder was left now, who knew he had no way of fighting back.  Seeing his two friends dead, he simply dropped the iron and went down on the floor grovelling in fear.
	"PLEASE, D-DON'T KILL ME!  I-i give up, f-fuck man I don' wanna figh' no more, don' kill me please!"
	"That so?" said Roy.  "You ain' gonna figh' no more?"
	"I WON'T, I SWEAR!"
	"...good."
Roy rolled his head to get all the tension out of his neck as he planted the tip of his blade into the ground before the thug, who whimpered up at the strange beast in sheer panic.  As he kicked the tire iron away to make sure his foe was disarmed, the raptor simply commanded him with two questions.
	"Whut's your name?"
	"Ch-chris...Chris Henman."
	"Whut were you in jail for?"
	"R-r-robbery...a-armed robbery."
	"...you get one chance, Chris Henman.  If ah ever see or hear about you in this city, doin' ONE wrong thing...whether you steal from sum girl, try to beat someone up, or even drop one fuckin' piece o' litter out there, ah will find you...and ah will kill you.  Redeem yer past actions...or else.  Now go."
The thug scarpered out of the alleyway with blind panic, crying out with tears of a fast-beating heart as he disappeared from view.  Roy simply resheathed his blade with a lift of his arms and turned towards the woman, wounded still from her attack with a bloody jaw, whimpering up at the strange monster.
	"S'alright...yer safe now."
	"Th-th-...th-thank you...wh-what are you?"
	"Heh, don' worry, it's a costume.  Ahm promotin' sumthin' in town."
	"B-but...that b-big thing you have...it killed them!"
	"...ahm part of a circus act.  We use real weapons to uh...intensify thuh danger."
	"Oh...c-circus?  I didn't hear of one in town, I-"
	"Well thuh way this place is now, ah don' think it's ever comin' in to uh...whut's this place again?"
	"Raccoon City...thank you sir."
She stood up softly, shaking but alive despite her bruises, holding her arms around herself.
	"Thank you."
	"No problem miss...you need help gettin' on home?"
	"Um...m-maybe...could you help me just...get down the road?  I only live a few blocks away."
	"Heh, sure.  I ain' got nowhere to be righ' now, maybe you can tell me whut's goin' on in this crazy-ass city."
Roy gently poked at the torn part of his hoodie, tapping the metallic armour he had worn underneath with a tender pat of gratitude.  Guiding her out of the alleyway, he stepped alongside her to keep her close, but not touching her in order to not scare her with his claws.  She seemed to believe the costume, which rather surprised Roy in that he didn't get interrogated more for it.  But ordinary people in a situation as bad as the city was in, tended not to focus on such details for the sake of survival.

Passing down a few blocks towards the southeast, the streetlights offered little comfort as they flickered barely to show the signs of growing abandonment from all around them.  Cars had either been wrecked or abandoned, turned over on their sides or just simply left to rot.  The odd instance of bloodied windshields and broken limbs turned Roy's stomach slightly, the sight of death in a modern landscape so similar to that of his home world.
It also brought up several strange questions in his head about the nature of these worlds.  But those were for another time, as he was soon interrupted by the woman asking:
	"I never...got your name."
	"Uh...Roy.  Roy MacGregor."
	"Joanne Churchill."
She nervously shook his hand with a strangely practiced shake, almost as if it were an unsteady business meeting.
	"I'm...s-sorry, I'm just so grateful for you saving me that-"
	"Hey, s'cool, don' worry abou' it miss."
	"Please, just call me Joanne.  Can I ask...why are you wearing the costume?"
	"Heh, wuz afraid you'd ask that.  Kinda didn' wanna take it off cuz, circus rules an' all, real complicated stuff, unions an' such, technically ahm not off-duty even.  Plus uh...ah found that this gave me sum kinda extra armour on me, so if someone tried to take me on, ah got a bit of advantage, hehehe."
	"Right...how long have you been here?"
	"Uhhh 'bout a day or two?  Seemed fine until ah saw those zombies roamin' around."
	"Oh god you saw them too?!"
	"Yeah...um...they really are zombies aren't they?"
	"I...I don't even know anymore, this can't be real, th-this can't be!  I mean, zombies don't exist!  They must be some sort of rotting ebola virus o-o-or something!"
	"Well thuh way they look all shufflin' aroun' tryin' to eat people, yeah, ah guess there ain't a lotta things it could be."
	"Right," said Joanne.  "Just...this has been happening the past few days, the reports were small at first and I thought it had to be some sort of virus or maybe some kind of crack meth that someone cooked up that turned your brain dead."
	"Heh, ah thought that too, seemed more than likely."
	"But no...they're dead.  All of them are dead.  Every single one of them...walking.  Eating.  And every day there's more of them.  More people missing, more people fleeing the city trying to escape...I don't know why you stayed here longer than a day."
	"Ah need to," said Roy.  "But...can ah ask you sumthin'?"
	"Yes?"
	"Have you seen a guy who looks like me, but shorter, maybe five-foot-ten, brown wi' purple marks on his snout?  Maybe got a huge-ass pair of scissors on his back?"
	"No...I haven't.  Is he a friend of yours?"
	"...yeah.  Ah know 'im, we're from the same act an' ah wanna catch up to him.  Get thuh whole gang back together 'fore we leave."
	"Is this...one of those carny pacts?"
	"Yeaaaah.  Ah can't say anymore you understand, union rules an' all."
	"Right," said Joanne with a nod, "right, I...I understand.  You should leave.  There's nowhere safe in this city now, and I know the government will be coming soon to...contain the situation."
	"Wait whut?  Thuh government?"
	"I'm on the city council, I was the environmental planner of the city and I heard the mayor...get a call from the U.S. Army just only yesterday.  They'll be coming here tomorrow to...quarantine the city."
	"...shit.  That's bad.  Tomorrow?"
	"Yes.  ETA was...September 24th, 9pm at the latest."
	"Damn...have you guys told anyone else out there?"

	"How can we?!  The city is in chaos, the police station is crammed FULL of survivors, and I dunno what's happened to Chief Irons or what the hell he's doing, and most of the phone lines are down!  We can't even warn our own people to flee...all we can do now is just hope.  And pray.  I'm telling you this now because you saved my life, but if you want to find your friend and get out of here, you should do it before then, September 24th at 9pm.  Otherwise...it's going to be quite difficult to escape from this city alive."
	"Righ'.  Thanks fer the heads up, ah appreciate it.  But whut about you?"
	"I know some friends, we're planning to escape tonight, long as we're not stupid and try not to drink any of the water or let those...those-"
	"Zombies?"
	"Yes..."
To even hear such a word made Joanne palm her face, both hands digging their fingers into her temples to try and focus on what was most important, as Roy asked cautiously:
	"Whut did you mean abou' thuh water?"
	"We took some samples, a few days ago.  Some of the waste management workers noted a lot of the rats were...getting sick.  And other things were...down there, somehow, I'm not sure but we tested the water...it was infected."
	"Infected?  With whut?"
	"A virus.  One I've never seen before.  There's something infecting the water of this town, and somehow the...the people are getting sick from it, then turning into these...these THINGS!  If you want to find your friend, don't drink the water and DON'T let those things touch you.  Not one bite, not one scratch.  If you do that, you'll have a much better chance for survival."
	"Alrigh'.  Ah appreciate it miss."
Eventually they stopped outside an apartment building at a street corner, the lights somewhat-lit inside as Roy noticed the area was suprisingly untouched, at least compared to how most of the city was.  A glance around had him notice he was somewhere along Ema Street.  The woman turned round towards him at her doorstep, saying:
	"Thank you once again...do you need anything?  Some food, bottled water at least?"
	"Nah ahm good, ah think ah can handle thuh place out here, you do all you can to survive with yer friends.  You gonna be alrigh' from here on in?"
	"I'll be fine don't worry.  I hope you find your friend."
	"Yeah...hope ah find him too.  You take care Joanne."
	"You too...Roy."
She headed upstairs as she closed the door, the raptor smiling up at the building before heading off towards the north.  The centre of the city was his first point of interest, the police station especially to see what the situation was.  The occasional lone zombie or two he met along the way, dispatching of them safely with either fire or a swing of his huge blade, the length helping him stay as far away as possible by at least a good distance of four feet.  He didn't even trust the idea of blood to spray on him, remembering Joanne's words on the virus.

Paranoia occasionally sank in with the odd sound of a lurching groan or a heart-rending scream far off in the distance, the city fires burning throughout to offer a rather orange sunset-like horizon at the dark of night.  Roy avoided the main streets, not wanting to encounter any groups of survivors who might mistake him for a monster, or any zombie hordes that might have gathered as one upon the large thoroughways.  At one point however, he spotted a school bus having overturned brutally against the side of the street.  Blood clearly stained the windows.
He turned away quickly to avoid seeing any more, not wanting to give fuel to his imagination for what poor fates had awaited its inhabitants.  Heading off towards the north, he rushed past the bus, the side of which he noted had been torn apart by some tremendous force, and found himself heading up across smaller alleyways.  He did not like the small alleyways, the claustrophobic feeling making him breathe fast, as well as the fact that he would be unable to swing his blade in such tight quarters.
But then he saw a shadow rush past the opening of one alley.  Something neither human nor undead.  He definitely recognised a tail, heading out quickly to try and find where it had come from.  Ennerdale Street was where he came out, and there lied no sign of any shadow anywhere.  Except for the dozens of people dead all around him upon the smaller street.  Forty-seven people in total he could count.  None of them had been killed by zombies.  Clearly by something else.
Huge grievous stab wounds deeply impaled through their very torsos.  Limbs snapped off and twisted out of joint to the point of sinew torn apart, like discarded marionettes.  Heads severed halfway from their spines as blood streaked across the gravel like graffiti.  The blood was not entirely random either, some of it being incredibly precise on where it went.  While certainly not some form of message, there was a method he could figure out in that whoever killed this group of people, was most certainly not killing all at once.  It was of exact precision, one by one.
	"Thuh fuck would do sumthin' like this?" asked Roy to himself.  "Sum kinda mass-murderin' fuck that's fer sure...that shadow though...had to have been him.  ...guess that dream ah had wuz right all along to bring me here...hmm..."
He examined whatever bullets remained on the ground, tenderly thumbing at the shell casings that came from rather sturdy handguns.  A few officers were among the dead, most of whom were armed civilians with a variety of melee weapons.  
	"Brass is still warm...musta been fired not more than an hour ago.  ...killin' a cop ah can see him doin', but people?  ...naw...if they saw him, thought he wuz a monster, they'd attack him.  ...would he kill that many jus' to survive?  ...hmm...twenny ah can see, but near-fifty?  That'd make him one hell of a serial killer."

He picked up the one handgun in the best condition, since a long-range weapon would be preferable within a city full of zombies as he gathered up all the useable ammo he could from them before leaving.  The way to the east was blocked off by large debris, trucks piled in against each other as he made his way north, further along Ema Street still.  Eventually he took a path down towards Euston Street, seeing that it was much quieter and a possible safe haven to rest, or at least set himself up a home base temporarily.  It was here however that he caught sight of the shadow once more, slipping around a corner.  
He took no chances and found a fire escape nearby, climbing up onto the rooftops to find an observation point.  Leaping over the packed buildings with only a fence-width of gap between them, he soon gazed down upon a lonesome backstreet car park.  Only one car remained, with a single street light.  Standing beside the car, was the one he had been looking for.  The brown raptor.   Claws slowly gripped around his large wooden handle, a sneer of victory coming to him.
	"Finally...ah fuckin' caught up wit' you bitch."
He leapt from above, ready to practice a new move he had learnt in a faraway land.  The moment gravity took control of him, he summoned a furious wind from around his body, lifting him slightly as he suddenly rushed forwards from the sky itself, slamming his whole body straight into FG like a jet fighter.  The raptor in brown found himself being crushed between black muscle and the metal car door, falling to the ground with aching ribs.
	"NNNNGH!  F-FUCK!"
	"Thought you could get away from me huh FG?"
The familiar New York slant of an accent made him wince as he gazed up to see the Utahraptor gazing down upon him.  His black-scaled skin blended in with the shadows perfectly beneath his smoke-grey head.  His eyes were a piercing pale blue, ringed within a darker blue around the eyes themselves, shining in the darkness with the intent to kill.
	"Wh-...awww for fuck's sake.  Why the fuck are you here?!"
	"Cuz no matter where you run, you ain' gettin' away from me, an' this time, ahma make sure you die."
	"God...dammit.  I was REALLY hoping I would never run into you again."
	"Well now you have, so you migh' as well stop runnin' like a bitch an' die like a man!"
	"I'm not a man, I'm a raptor, jesus christ!"
	"You ain't anythin' motherfucker, you a snake-ass killer that's gonna git whut's comin' to him!"
	"FUCK OFF!"
James blasted both fists out with a burning rage, shooting fire towards Roy as he stepped back to avoid the flames, pulling out his Great Knife which barely glimmered in the lone street light behind him.  James stood up to bring out his scissors, ready to defend himself as he stepped away from the car to give himself space.
	"I am NOT in the mood for this, especially not in the middle of a fucking zombie city.  Don't you have anything better to do?!"
	"Nope," said the black raptor.  "An' this place'll make a perfect grave fer you.  All thuh people you killed, all thuh blood on yer hands...I'll bury you with all of 'em!"

Striking out with a swing of his blade, he solidified the air before him into a shining shimmer of ice, striking forwards as a chilling cold wind tore past FG which struck down his defence in a blinding shiver.  He barely had time to expect such an attack before Roy shouldercharged him brutally in the face, knocking him down against the cold ground with blade swung high.  FG swiftly rolled out of the way as soon as his back hit the gravel, the Great Knife clanging hard upon the floor in sparks as he swung his scissors upwards in mid-roll getting up.
Scoring a hit across Roy's shoulder, the black raptor stumbled slightly off-balance before FG bodyslammed him from the side, knocking him down before stomping hard onto his face.  His thick clawed foot squashed Roy's cheek, his grunts of resistance increasing as the brown raptor stomped harder.
	"Remember THIS?!  HUH!?  Remember when I stomped your ass back in Fourside, FUCKFACE!?"
	"AUUGH!  FUCK YOU!"
A blast of ice shot out from Roy's hand, striking James in the head with the force of a baseball as he stepped back clutching his head in pain.  The black utahraptor got up quick enough to grab FG with one arm around his shoulder, crushing him against his thick clothed chest before slamming his other shoulder with a one-inch tackle.  James stumbled, but this time he resisted the fall and steadied himself with his scissors like a crutch, waiting for his foe to charge with a mighty swing of his gigantic blade.  The moment he did, the raptor in brown dodged.
Seeing Roy charge past him, he grabbed at the hood part of his hoodie hanging from the back of his neck, tugging him back before swinging his scissors hard across the back of his leg like a golf swing.  Roy cried out as the blade cut into his leg, striking hard enough to bleed out with a slash as he stumbled and almost fell.  But he was not done yet, immediately spraying a splash of water from his hand to create a puddle half-circling around him.
With a sudden freezing snap of bone-shattering wind screaming from his claws, he forced the water to rise and crystallise.  A shield of ice had been hastily made before FG could even react, but the velociraptor was quick to react with his own nano-power, streaking a deadly fire across his blades before slashing straight through the ice, melting it in seconds.  But it was enough time for Roy to stand up behind the shield, backing off in order to shoot out a pure cold stream of water ending upon FG's body, splashing him hard.
Then he began to ready a tremendous slam of his sword-sized knife down into the ground, layered within water and ice.  The ice itself seemed to suddenly streak across the ground, turning clear liquid into freezing solid black as it made its way towards FG, crackling and snapping into place like settling bones.  James almost panicked, throwing up a fire shield around him to stave off any sudden drop in temperature.  Water turned to steam off his body, accompanied by a roaring inferno of fire and wind all around him for but the briefest of moments.

Once the ice had balked at his fierce heat, he quickly dissipated it, breathing back gulps of air that his fire had tried to steal before Roy came charging once more.  Both of them started to run forwards, screaming out with one voice:
	"WULD!"
Both of them had the same idea, swinging out both blades in order to collide with the other with sudden swift speed, dashing forwards with the power of wind upon their heels.  But James wanted to collide in order to stop Roy from swinging his weapon, slamming him with a charging clothesline straight into his face, crushing his clawed fist straight into a black snout.  Roy's feet went forwards of his body, his head falling back as he skidded on his back across the car park, his hoodie ruffling up against hard gravel.
	"NNNGH!  ...f-fuckin' BITCH!"
In a desperate move, Roy hurled his Great Knife straight towards FG, spinning a short distance like a giant saw horizontally.  The moment it landed on the ground scraping towards him, James hurriedly jumped over it, causing him to take his eyes off of Roy briefly.  In that moment, he suddenly felt a rush of thick muscle come grab him by the waist, as Roy grabbed him in a charging slalom before lifting him up with one armful of strength and slamming him down hard onto the floor.
	"TOUCHDOWN!"
	"AAAAGH!  F-FUCK, DAMMIT!"
	"NOW WHO'S ON THUH FLOOR HUH!?  YEAH, NOW IT'S YOUR TURN TO FEEL IT!  YOU GONNA END UP DEAD HERE FG, NOT ME!  AH AIN'T GONNA DIE, AH AIN'T GONNA WASTE MAH TIME WIT' YOU!"
	"STOP!"
A voice screamed out from behind them to interrupt Roy's fury.  Turning round halfway, he saw a young boy standing fearfully beneath the lone street light, just out of the blue door underneath it.
	"...the hell, kid get outta here!"
	"Wh-whut are you doing, let him go!"
	"Kid you don' understand, get outta here, you saw nuthin'!"
	"NO WAIT!" said FG in desperation, "Michael don't run!  He's...he's with us!"
	"...wait WHUT!?"
	"Yeah!  Michael here is lost, he's trying to get back to his parents and I'm trying to help him through this city."
	"...pffft, yeah right, like you'd give a damn 'bout sum kid."
	"No he's tellin' the truth!" said Michael.  "Please, don' hurt him mister!  He's helpin' me!  Please!"
Michael bravely stepped forwards, anxious for James who laid on the ground panting with eyes shining of truth.  Roy however sneered at such words, standing at his side as he crossed his arms, saying:
	"I don' believe you."
	"He did!  Mister FG's helpin' me, he saved me from the zombies!  I'd have been eaten if it weren't for him!"
	"...seriously?"
	"Mmhmm."

James nodded earnestly to support the boy's words.  Roy looked back and forth, turning more and more annoyed by the fact he had no reason to disbelieve the words of an innocent child.  After a while of frustrated thoughts, he walked over towards his blade nearby and sheathed it back into his large scabbard.
	"Fine, kid got no reason to lie, I ain' gonna argue, get the fuck up."
	"HEY!"
FG stood up quickly with an insulted look straight into Roy's eyes.
	"DON'T swear in front of the kid, he's got enough problems without hearing any of that!"
	"Whu-SERIOUSLY!?  You really gonna play li'l miss family values after all thuh shit YOU done!?"
	"This is different!  This is a boy who's scared and lost in a city overrun with zombies!  I know I shouldn't care about that kind of thing but I wanna keep him safe and unharmed in every possible way, and if you do anything to endanger that then I will kill everyone you know!"
	"...you already did that."
Roy snarled venomously at FG, showing his teeth as James snarled at him back before the black raptor added:
	"Besides, you ain' exactly the kinda guy who'd be good at lookin' after a kid."
	"Then you obviously forget the time I was in Fourside.  You should know, the way you ran away like a little punk and left me to handle those...weirdos."
	"...hmmph.  Well...alrigh'.  Thuh kid is stickin' to us like glue.  Only reason ah don't hurt you is cuz o' him."
	"Fine by me."
	"Um," the boy asked softly, "are you two...like...friends or not?  Did you two fall out?  Cuz yer both dinosaurs an' everything."
	"It's...complicated."
	"Nah it ain't," said Roy, "but that ain't none of yer business.  Ahm Roy, I'll help you get through thuh city 'fore ah take care of any other business."
	"Do you...really hate FG?" asked Michael.
	"...like he said, it's complicated."
	"O-okay...but...where'd you both come from?  I mean...how did dinosaurs come back to life?!"
	"Well, actually-"
	"We come from another dimension," said FG bluntly.  "We both ended up here for...whatever reason."
	"Whu-whut thuh hell man, you not even TRYIN' to lie anymore?!"
	"Oh come on, he's a kid, if anything he's the only one I can be honest with.  Besides, we're bound by a pinky promise."
	"...really?  We doin' this playground shi-"
	"Hey!"
	"Ah mean, playground rules?!  Whut are you, twelve?"
	"No, but Michael is, this is his world, so we work by his rules and his path, right?"
	"Right," said Michael.  "But actually I'm ten."
	"Same thing, don't worry.  Basically we both come from another alternate Earth where there's all these different creatures alongside humanity, where we all...try...to get along."

He stared at Roy as he said this, the raptor of taller stature sneering as he refused to look away from him.
	"But we have our problems."
	"So...how'd you two end up here?"
	"Teleportation, me and Roy got these weird nanos inside us that make us do all kinds of crazy stuff, like fire, water, ice, lots of things really.  See, I'm trying to get back home, but I keep ending up in these different worlds and getting myself all lost.  Like you are now.  Guess that's why I wanted to help you really."
	"Okay...what about you mister Roy?"
	"Me?" he said.  "Whut abou' me?"
	"Why are you here?"
	"...ahm lookin' fer someone.  That's all ah can say if that's okay."
	"Alright...um...can we go now?  My house is just the other side of the zoo."
	"Fine by me," said FG.  "We better stick together so we can all watch each other's backs, you know in case of any zombies or such."
	"Right," said Roy, "in that case ah got some info for you two.  Michael, whut's in that door?"
	"Um," said Michael, "a bathroom...why?"
	"...you didn' wash yer hands by any chance did you?  Ah need to know thuh truth."
	"...n-no...the tap wasn't working."
	"Alrigh', that's good."
	"H-huh?!"
	"Ah met with this woman abou' an hour ago, said she worked on thuh council and they were doin' tests on thuh water.  Turns out thuh water's infected real bad with sum kinda virus, so you better not drink anythin' from around here.  If we need water, we better get thuh bottled stuff, pure fresh spring water distilled by some other big-ass company in their own pollutin' district."
	"W-wait the water's bad?!" said Michael.  "...oh no, the taps work in my house, wha-what if my mom and dad-"
	"Wait wait wait," said FG, "firstly, explain more about this water, and secondly, didn't you say your mum and dad work at Umbrella?"
	"Wait whut?!" said Roy.  "His parents work at Umbrella?!  That's thuh company said to be behind this whole thing!"
	"But," stuttered the boy, "m-my mom an' dad wouldn't do anything bad, they'd n-never do all of THIS!  They'd never!"
	"Dammit Roy you're upsetting him!"
James walked over towards Michael's side and comforted him, the boy starting to get panicked and shaky with fear and guilt as tears flecked to his eyes.  Hugging him softly to calm him down, the raptor eased his fears by saying:
	"Look Michael, you said your parents work at reception right?  If any of this is the company's fault, they probably don't know anything about it.  I mean, receptionists do what, buzz in guests and drink coffee?"
	"R-right...yeah...they do that...a-and do boring paperwork."
	"There you see, it's alright now, they're just doing boring boring jobs in a very boring grey room with a boring BORING desk, like what's the most boring wood you can think of?"
	"...um...b-brown?"
	"Yes, that's it, brown wood, the most BORING wood of all, right?!  And anything that boring can't get hurt because nobody wants to deal with something sooooo boooooring."

The raptor's words and overemphasis made Michael laugh awkwardly, giggling as his eyes lit up to stop tears from coming out.  Once James was certain he felt alright, he turned to ask the utahraptor:
	"What about the zombies themselves, the no-biting rule still apply?"
	"Oh yeah, definitely.  Even better, don't let any of 'em bite OR scratch you, not even touch you."
	"Um...isn't it only the bite that infects you?"
	"Nah uh.  Ah seen bodies where people got scratched or gouged deep, not a single bite on 'em an' they still end up dead, or undead rather.  If any of those guys wound you, you probably end up dead...maybe.  Viruses don' always get a chance to infect first bite."
	"Alright, fair enough, best play it safe like a no-hit run."
	"Better avoid drinkin' any water we find like ah said, unless it's bottled an' from far away, or at least stuff not produced here."
	"You really think the virus spread in the water?"
	"We ain' gonna take any chances.  Viruses spread from any kinda source, thuh people already infected are one, but whut infected them all in thuh first place?  People take baths, wash their dishes, drink sum water to drink down their pills, it all comes back to thuh water man."
	"Alright then.  So, we know what to do and we know where to go, Michael, you lead us on.  Me and Roy here will watch your back."
	"Okay," said Michael.  "Thank you misters-um...FG and Roy."
	"Hey-ey," said Roy, "why you call him FG an' call me Roy?  Come on, lemme have a nickname, like MG."
	"...um...that sounds...kinda like the same."
	"Whut, naw it ain't!"
	"It totally is," said FG with a playful nudge, "dude, stop stealing my thunder, this is my nickname first."
	"Whu-get away from me."
Roy stepped away having enough of James' childish attitude, walking out of the car park and waiting to be escorted by the boy.  Michael walked up with FG who murmured:
	"SOMEONE'S a real crankysaurus Rex."
	"Pfffftheheheheee!"
	"HEY!" said Roy.  "Sooner we get you home, sooner we all get outta here, let's move it gang!"
	"Okay-dokey cranky-blacky!"
	"Whu-whut thuh hell you sayin' now?!"
	"Hhhahahahaha!"
Both Michael and FG laughed as Roy struggled to remain composed, frustrated immensely.  He didn't have a problem with kids.  He just hated FG and the way he was so immature around them.  It was bad enough that he had finally found the killer he had been looking for again, but now he was forced to work alongside him and his disturbingly childish ways.  He found it sickening.  Untrustworthy.  And it made him all the more fearful for young Michael.  Somehow, he knew, that Michael would find himself getting hurt or worse in the hands of the FinalGamer.
James tried not to walk alongside the MasterGamer, his stride slower and more firm than his own rather slender walk.  He knew distrust was going to exist between them, and he knew that the moment Michael was out of the picture, they would soon be battling at each other's throats once again.  The only problem, was that FG had no reason to kill him.  Or rather, he had no urge to kill him even for the sake of survival.  He hoped that a solution to evade such unwarranted wrath would present itself soon, as they made their way in further into Raccon City.