Umbrella Surveillance System
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James Scott It's just a foggy out as the previous evening, which means that thankfully those out partying shouldn't have to break out the fog machines, so long as they keep the festivities outdoors. Surprisingly few people are out, but then again it's Halloween!

James Scott is one of the people who was out and about, but he's on his way home currently. In one hand he's carrying a bottle of adelscott and the other is a cigar. It's a time to celebrate, and that's clearly what he was out doing. Though drinking and having one eye doesn't mix well too well. One moment the teen's walking along normally, the next he's slamming his shin into a fire hydrant and flipping over directly onto his face.

"Fuck." he groans out, voice muffled by the asphalt.
Vivienne Vivienne is not a big fan of Halloween, but she is a sucker for any excuse to dress up and get candy. She's a bit too old for trick or treating so she's out, looking for a party or an open diner. She walks slowly down the road, enjoying the view when she suddenly sees someone dive face first into the asphalt.

She winces in sympathy and slowly makes her way over to the man and reaches out a hand to help him up. "That looked pretty painful." Vivienne says, her lips pressed together so she doesn't smile. "You might need some ice for that.." She gestures vaguely at James' face, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
Chris Redfield Chris is out for a walk this evening, he'd forgotten it was Halloween and it is celebrated differently here than it is back home. In France, people of all ages dress up in costumes and go to parties in scary costumes rather than go trick or treating. Redfield isn't in a costume, but he does seem a bit scary because of the dour almost angry expression on his face as he walks the streets. He's wearing a brown bomber style aviator's leather jacket with the zipper half way down, a green button down colared shirt, blue jeans and black doc marten boots. His hands are in his jacket pocket at the moment as he seems lost in his own angry thoughts with his brow furrowed, a small scowl on his face and an intense look in his eyes.

Chris almost doesn't notice James out of the corner of his eye, just thinking he's another dude drinking in public and going to a party. But when the man yells out and swears, he turns his gaze towards him and notices that a rather familiar looking lady has walked over to help the man up. He pauses for a moment, deciding on whether to head over there himself but his better nature seems to win the struggle and he does walk over towards James and Vivienne. "You okay?" he asks James, standing beside Viv and offers his hand as well to assist Viv in case James is drunk or something.
James Scott "Is it that bad?" James asks, clearly a little tipsy already. As he looks up it's clear he's seen much worse than falling over, because there's a scar leading to a milky right eye. Still he takes the offered hand and pulls himself up, but stops short when he actually sees Vivienne. "Wow."

He starts to say something else but then Chris arrives on the scene. "I'm fine. Haven't been this good since before Raccoon. Well, actually ever. Raccoon was pretty shitty even before the zombies." He dusts himself back off then looks back up, actually seeming to recognize Chris this time. "Oh, hey. You're Claire's brother. I went to school with her back before everything went to shit. You don't know me though, I'm James." Well, maybe he does know him. He does have a touch of a criminal record, assuming those files even exist anymore.
Vivienne Vivienne debates if she should tell James the truth and decides that a white lie won't hurt. "I'm pretty sure it'll be okay in the morning." She steps to the side a bit and watches a large group walk past dressed in vibrant colors. When she turns her head it's apparent that a bruise is healing on her cheek. After a moment she focuses and smiles at Chris. "Oh, I have your card still, I'm sorry I haven't called. Have you found out anything more about what happened?"

Vivienne flushes red and then frowns, smiling over at James. "Look at me trying to talk shop instead of introducing myself. Vivienne Leigh." She says, holding out her dominant hand, palm up, for James to shake.
Chris Redfield Chris see's that Viv is able to help James get to his feet on her own and puts his hands down by his side now. He glances towards Viv when James exclaims wow after seeing her and then nods to the man when he says that he is fine. At James mention of Raccoon City, his brow furrows slightly and he seems to be studying James face a bit more closely now. If there is any recognition, it isn't showing on Redfield's face but the mention of Claire does bring about a reaction. His jaw tightens and he nods once more. After a brief pause he finally replies, "Sorry. I don't. Better put ice on that, James like she said." He then turns his attention to Vivienne, when she mentions his card and if he has an update.

"No. But can't really talk about that here." He then notices the bruise on Viv's cheek and he looks at her with concern in his eyes, although his face still has a half stoic, half still angry simmer. "What happened?" He says in a cop-like tone that is professional but also compassionate.
James Scott "James Scott, it's nice to meet you." James says with a warm smile, taking Vivienne's hand in his own and giving it a shake. "And at least it was the ground and not a bullet this time." his free hand indicates that eye. That smile fades though when he catches sight of the bruise.

Even more so when Chris appears to be upset at the mention of his sister. "Everything's still shit, isn't it?" Despite just having risen he drops down onto one knee again, this time to clean up the broken glass caused by his clumsiness. "Seems like something's always happening."
Vivienne Vivienne touches her cheek and then winces, offering a shrug in response. "Went out drinking last night and some guys tried to follow me home. One got a little handsy." She says, kneeling down to help clean up the broken glass. "Never accept free drinks, because really they're never free."

She gets to her feet when the glass is gathered up and finds a bin to deposit her share into. "I was actually looking for a place to get something to eat, maybe. Either of you know of a place?"
Chris Redfield Chris's response to James's comment again makes his jaw tighten, then a small vein in his forehead appears, as his face starts going red for a second and he clenches his fists. Just as suddenly though, the stoic, slightly pissed off Redfield, reappears and his fists unclench.

He doesn't comment to James and simply nods when Vivienne tells him what happened. "Be careful."

Redfield, then watches as you both pick up glass to put it in the bin. "Jack's is pretty good if you don't mind a bit of an American menu." He offers to her and then puts his hands into his jacket pocket.
James Scott "They should be glad I wasn't out drinking with you." James says, jaw clenching. "That's at the top of my list of shit that doesn't fly." As he speaks his left eye shifts, the brilliant blue turning to a dull red, though it only lasts for a moment. Not seeming to notice he goes over to deposit the glass in the bin as well. "I was actally heading back to my place for that purpose, got some pineapple barbecue in the crock pot that should be done." He points a bit further down the street to the tallest building, "That's where my apartment is. If you guys want a sandwich anyway." He didn't leave his weed out, did he?

"And Jack's is cool as long as you don't show up on football night. Was a pretty big brawl there, not sure how many teeth I had to knock out before people stopped swinging."
Prestige William Caldwell Slithering out from the darkest corners of PARIS is wait..that's just in Caldwell's head. He's actually just waltzing down the street where he finds Chris, Vivi and some random weirdo standing around. He walks over to them and waves to the group "Hiya!" he says, smiling. He isn't decked out in FBC gear as usual but instead he's wearing casual attire, he is wearing a pair of pants with the words "GUCCI" on them. along with a shirt that has an alien on it that reads "Ayy Lmao" he smiles towards the group "So what's everyone up to?"
Vivienne "Just admiring the Halloween festivities." Vivienne says, smiling at Will. She glances back towards James and Chris and shakes her head. "Oh it's fine. It was taken care of, and then some." She assures them both, folding her arms over her chest. "So, Jacks or..someones apartment whom I just met. I'm sorry, but I'm probably going to choose the private venue, no disrespect intended."
Chris Redfield Chris glances between James and Vivienne, just content with listening for now as they converse. He's in no mood to really be social if one couldn't tell already by his body language and demeanor. But then William appears, as if he's like Batman or some dude from the future. He certainly is a boy ahead of his time though with that fashion sense of his and cool alien t-shirt. "William." He gives the former S.T.A.R.S. rookie a nod and then takes his leave, heading off down the street towards Jack's. A slight scowl is the only indication that something is bothering him, since he's usually quiet friendly and not this rude.
James Scott "Nah, I know better than that. I just meant I'd ride up and get them." James says with a slight wave of his hand. "Besides, I don't like just inviting whoever up. Last thing I need is for somebody to puke in my pool or fall off the roof. It's a long way down from the penthouse." He perks up a bit as he remembers something. "Shit, I've got a bar too. I could bring a bottle or two down too."

And then there's William. "What the fuck are you wearing?" He clearly has no idea who this man is.
Buck Rogers "Oh non," cries out an effeminate man in an affected and overwrought French accent, "it is le zombies!"

"Save us!" cry out two college-aged girls, holding onto one another's hands as they run down the sidewalk. They're dressed in tight-fitting clothing and run in such a way as to deliberately thrust out their ample and heaving breasts.

"I don't want to be a manwich!" cries out a fat man in a pinstripe suit, backed up against a wall, terror in his eyes. The small group of people move through the mists, vanishing and reappearing, panicked and in a rush.. which makes their slow, dramatized movements awful queer.

A handful of undead-looking people wander toward the group. They shamble and twitch, but smell pretty nice. The fat man screams as two of the undead grab him, toppling over and convulsing as they bury their faces in his delicious rolls.

"NEVER FEAR," comes a booming, leonine roar from the other side of the street. "BUCK ROGERS IS HERE!"

There's a metallic roar as a chainsaw revs up, the bestial engine growling and sputtering to wakefulness. The college girls stop running and turn around, the effeminate man raises his hands in prayer, and the fat man has stopped convulsing -- the zombies have also stopped eating him, politely looking toward the voice.

Through the fog barrels a giant, clad in black armor, almost military-- customized to be especially heavy, with heavy plates and sharp angles, looking like something out of DOOM. The earth trembles as the giant walks, and he brings his chainsaw crashing down against one of the undead...

"Cut! Cut! Sally, Austen, we can't see you when you're standing there. You need to move over a little-- Francis, great job on the twitching, keep it up." A squat fellow comes in through the mists, two camera men next to him recording. He waves his arm and the sound of the chainsaw cuts out. The thing in Buck's hand isn't actually on. "Okay, Buck, I -- more people? Come on, we were told this street would be cleared for at least a few hours! Fuck it, everyone, take a break."
Vivienne Vivienne takes a step back and first seems ready to attack something (or someone) but when the voice cries out for a cut she slumps slightly glancing from person to person, a confused look on her face. Then she spots Buck and she starts to giggle, and that giggle grows into a laugh until she's bent over, her shoulders shaking with mirth. When she finally manages to stand up straight again she sighs her head shaking slowly. "That's great..really.."
Prestige William Caldwell William waves to the best Redfield and smiles at him, then looking at James and staring blankly at him before smiling again and nodding his head sagely. "I am wearing memes. Not just any memes, the best kind of memes. I got these from Hot Topic." he watches in horror as ZOMBIES appear. Oh god why didn't he bring a gun!? He fumbles around for a pocket knife, a gun, anything to defend himself. Then...Buck and a crew of cameramen come out? "Oh thank god..." he mutters, he damn near shat himself when the people came shambling over. He then wipes the sweat pooling on his forehead and breaths a sigh of relief.
James Scott "That's not how it fucking happened!" James shout out towards Buck and the film crew. "I mean fuck, you did kick some ass, especially in that plant, but was it necessary to stroke your own dick and make money off of it?" He shakes his head and lowers his voice. "Fuck, everybody I knew except for six people died there." He doesn't seem like he wants to party anymore, actually he looks pretty fucking depressed. Rather than head off towards Jack's he starts off towards the apartment building he pointed out.
Chris Redfield Chris doesn't seem to notice or care that they've walked through Buck's movie set as he continues to walk towards Jack's Bar, preoccupied as he is with other things on his mind. He pulls out a cell phone from his pocket once he's walked far enough away from all the noise, then dials a number when he's in an area that is quieter. "Zima. It's Chris. I need a favor. I need a cell phone number triangulation for the last known location, when and where the last call was made or any information about activity over the last few days. Yes, it's imporant..." His voice then fades as he walks farther away from the group.
Buck Rogers As the crew shuffle off and take a breather, Buck Rogers' comes face to face with James' anger. The brute swaggers on over and rests his massive industrial chainsaw over a shoulder. "Relax, James," he begins, remembering the younger man's name from the fair. "This is a Halloween commercial. Some kinda body spray." Buck's makeup has been done to leave him bloodied and dirtied, as if he'd just waded through a sea of blood and guts then wrestled a slopfarm pig. One of the college girls bounces over on her way to her zombie boyfriend, leans in on Buck's armored arm, and says, "Buzzsaw!", and Buck gives her an appreciate smack on the ass to send her on her way before nodding. "Buzzsaw." Stretching, Buck looks around at the gathered group, letting out a low, chest-rumblin' hrmm of thought. "And hey, bud. The world needed to know what happened. If I can make some money off that, it's my civic duty-- my god damn right as an American." A true fuckin' patriot, Buck Rogers. He then levels his gaze at the doubled-over Vivienne, whose laughter is drowning out his words, and slips over toward her. He reaches to lift her chin and turn her face to expose the mark on it. "How's that healin', beautiful?"
Vivienne "Almost healed." Vivienne answers, having finally caught her breath. She shakes her head and reaches out, touching a little of the fake blood on Buck's arm and rubbing her two fingers together over the sticky substance. "You're a mess." She backs up a few steps towards Jack's, a grin on her face. "I dunno if they let great big bloody men into Bistro's.." She glances over her shoulder at the building and pats her stomach idly. "I'm hungry too, so.." She blushes and then turns towards the bistro briefly pausing to call over her shoulder. "You should get that gunk off of you and come eat, I'll save you something."
James Scott James freezes, turning to look directly at Buck. Since the last time he saw the larger man he's apparently lost an eye. "Did yo have to take the rest of the guys out of the story though and make yourself the hero?" His blue eye shifts again, this time rather than just the iris turning red the pupil shifts as well, elongating and becoming more serpentine. Just like the zombies from Raccoon. "Those video logs showed the world what happened. This is you making money off our suffering."

As he speaks he unbuttons his shirt, removing it and tossing it down, coincidentally in front of Vivienne as she turns to walk away. "It's good to know some off us got something other than scars out of it though." And holy fuck is he covered in scars. Bullet wounds, bite and claw marks, the whole shebang. "I had one of my fucking testicles shot off Buck." With that said he turns and starts walking off again, this time with no intention of stopping again.
Buck Rogers "Tsk," Buck calls when Vivienne turns and saunters off for food. "You save a girl's life, fuck her, and she starts thinking you gotta follow her around buyin' her food." His mouth, all dry-lipped and painted in streaks of fake blood, splits in an easy grin, watching the plump ass of the F.B.C. girl disappear into the bistro. He turns and is staring once again at James, one-eyed. "You need a main character," he explains, shameless, rolling the shoulder opposite the chainsaw. "Keeps things simple. The hell happened to you? You weren't a cyclops last time we met. Or... whatever the hell you are." Buck finds the shifting of the eye curious, but he's been surrounded by special effects all day; probably a weird-ass contact lense. Then he's stripping off his shirt and throwing down, and it's highschool all over again. "Aw, hell. You still got one nut, hold off on being such a pussy."
James Scott "I was shot in the face Buck. And does your girlfriend know you're fucking all these other girls?" James shouts back, snarling. "Piece of shit." he spits quietly. Heading on back to his apartment.
Chris Redfield Since it is Halloween, it is pretty busy inside Jack's at the moment. Mostly everybody is in costume, drinking with their friends and having a grand ol time. There also happens to be a live band playing, a lead singer, a drummer and a guitarist who are dressed up as zombies of all things. The music that they are playing are cover songs, this current one is of Green Day's American Idiot (

Chris finishes his phone conversation, putting his cell phone away and walks into the bar. He was already in a bad mood to begin with and the music doesn't do a thing to make it any better. He bumps into a few people as he tries to squeeze by them, but he's a pretty big guy, not Buck sized by any means but he's certainly got most of this crowd beat in the physique department. When one guy turns to tell him off, he stops and decides to shut his mouth because of the rather dangerous vibes that Redfield gives off in his current state. He slides up to the only empty seat at the bar, the other two guys in the seats beside him take one look at him through their costume masks, then quickly vacate their seats leaving two more empty now.

The bartender, Dave knows Chris since he's a regular customer. "Hey Chris. How goes...oh, you have a bad day or something?" Redfield's reply is almost like a grunt, "Whiskey." Dave then nods, "Got it. Here ya go." The glass of whiskey is put in front of him and he downs it in one gulp. "Another." Dave then pours him one more glass with just a slight hesitation and says, "Cheers mate. I'll be back to check on ya in a bit." The bartender leaves to go serve another customer while Redfield, sits there by himself and just stares at the glass but doesn't drink from it yet.
Vivienne Vivienne walks into the Bistro, chewing on her bottom lip, lost in thought. She spots Chris at the bar and glances around for any other empty spots. Finding none she marches up, scoots onto a stool and taps the bar with two fingers. When the bartender shows up she offers him a brief smile. "Strawberry sunrise." She says, a friendly tone in her voice. Turning to Chris she taps him gently on the shoulder. "So, I don't think a penny will pay for it, so..quarter for your thoughts?"
James Scott Buck really got to James. But up there in that big penthouse he was alone with his demons, and oh boy does he have a lot of them. As he stood up above the city looking out the small voice from his high school years finally returned, whispering the sweetest promises. No more pain. No more memories of his abusive family. No more being rejected by the women he loved. All he had to do was jump. One small step and death's sweet embrace would be his.

It was a hard fought battle, but in the end James won. After a quick shower he threw on a pair of jeans, a white tank top, and a leather jacket. He couldn't be alone, so he decided he'd get drunk some place he knew would be full of people, Jack's. If he happened to see Buck inside he'd leave and find another place, easy enough.

It's actually a short walk from the apartment building to the Bistro, so he shows up a little bit after everyone else. Peeking his head in he looks around, and once he's satisfied the giant isn't there he makes his way up to the bar. Only to find that there aren't any seats left. Thankfully he recognizes the person sitting next to Vivienne, so he approaches the man from behind and taps his shoulder. "Excuse me, but that's my seat."

The large man, likely a rugby player, swings around ready to give whoever touched him a mouthful. But once he sees James standing there he scrambles, hitting the floor and pissing himself. So much for muscles.

"That's what I fucking thought." James grunts, taking the now vacant stool.
Chris Redfield Chris seems deep in thought, leaning one of his elbows across the bar and slowly rotating the glass of whiskey with his right hand as he stares blankly at the tv screen that is showing a soccer game.

The tap on his shoulder, shakes him out of his reverie as he glances towards Vivienne who is now sitting beside him. "Oh, hey. I thought you were going somewhere with Buck?" He glances around the bar not seeing the big mountain of a man, which there is no way he could have missed and then settles his gaze back to the FBC officer. "Glad to see you out of the hospital by the way." He then looks at his glass of whiskey, bringing it up to his lips but stops and puts it back down on the bar. "Quarter, huh? That's a lot of money for thoughts. I wouldn't waste it on me." He exhales a long breath and changes the subject. "I went to the site, didn't really find out too much but you were right the origin of the blast was behind where you were. You are lucky the bar probably saved you." He then raises his glass towards you in a toast. "To surviving." He then notices the man sitting on the other side of Vivienne, quickly vacating his seat and then James is sitting down. He raises his glass towards James in a greeting, then takes a small sip of his whiskey putting the glass back down on the bar.
Vivienne "Oh..him.." Vivienne says, shaking her head with a slight roll of her eyes. "He comes and goes as he pleases, as usual." She holds up her right arm and pushes back her sleeve, showing a brace. "Still got hardware though." She jokes, glancing briefly over her shoulder as James takes a seat. Her drink is delivered then and she picks up the yellow and red drink and raises it as Chris toasts. "Surviving."

She turns then and aims a brilliant smile at James and quips. "Glad to see you decided to come with us, and that you found another shirt." She gestures to the bartender and after a moment asks. "Can I buy you a drink?"
James Scott James nods at Chris before flagging down the bartender. "Whiskey. Whatever's the most expensive." he orders. Then Vivienne is talking to him. A hollow smile is sent her way, but he shakes his head slightly. "No, but I'll pay for yours."

"He comes and goes as he pleases because he has a girlfriend. Isabel, I think her name is. He was at the fair with her, didn't stop him from grabbing my friend's ass. And don't think he saved you out of some sense of honor, I've never seen a man that loved to kill as much as him. You should have seen him back in Raccoon." That hollow look quickly turns into one of disgust. Out of all the people he doesn't like, Buck is clearly at the top of that list.
Chris Redfield Chris replies to Vivienne's comments with a nod and then takes another small sip of whiskey, as Viv has turned her attention over to James. He can't help but overhear what James is saying about Buck, which doesn't really draw much of a reaction out of him other than a small shrug. He glances up at the tv, but he's not a fan of soccer and then starts rotating the glass in his hands again. "We all changed after Raccoon."
Vivienne "He probably has more than one girlfriend." Vivienne says, smiling over at James with a slight shrug. "If you want to pay for my drink, that's fine, just don't behave like the louts last night." She thinks for a moment and then adds. "I noticed his apparent lust for killing last night." She says, taking a sip of her drink.
James Scott "Well, at least one of us can get laid." James offers a sort of grin. "And of course not. I like my sex consentual and sober." He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, attention going to the television. Unlike Chris he does watch football, so he takes a moment to see who's playing and what the score is. "Besides, I'm not as pretty as I used to be."

What Chris says gets him a nod. "Yeah, we're all different. Some of us more than others though."
Chris Redfield The bar is still hopping, a lot the patrons are dancing or singing along with the band which is now, playing a cover of Cold Play's Speed of Sound (

Chris isn't really contributing much to the conversation, especially since it involves other people's private lives and he's not exactly known or looks like the type of guy that talks about /feelings/ or discusses his private affairs. Tough guy Chris Redfield has a reputation he has to uphold after all.

The one tidbit that did get his attention is when Vivienne mentions that she noticed Buck's apparant lust for killing the other night. He then glances at Viv's face, eyes flickering towards the bruise on her cheek and he takes another small sip from his glass. Chris waves the bartender over, holding up his empty glass and Dave comes over with the bottle, refilling it for him as he slides a bunch of bills across the bar to pay for his third drink. "Cheers." Dave says to Redfield, then gets James a glass of the bar's most expensive whiskey and then he turns his attentions towards Viv, "How are you doing, darling? Need anything else while I'm here?" Dave says politely to her with his best smile.
Vivienne Vivienne stares at James for a second and then she leans in, as if she is studying him. "You some people.. scars are a story. A journey that someone has taken. Besides, you can be the prettiest son of a bitch in the world and not be worth the skin stretched around your body." She leans back and shrugs, her attention caugt by the bartender. "Hi, yeah..this'll be my only drink, actually. Early morning tomorrow and all that." She glances at both men sitting on either side of her slowly, and then sighs. To Chris she says. "So, uhm, I got something I want to discuss with you on the quiet, but I can't do it tonight. Got somewhere to be, so I'm gonna find you soon. Try to cheer up, just should." She turns to James then, as she slides off her stool and grins. "I'd pat you on the shoulder, but I think you're a little too tense for touch right now. I want to see that pool, haven't been swimming since I was ..six? It'll be a treat, but that's for when you get to know me better." She starts to back towards the door. "Thanks for the drink, and the interesting - if not brief - conversation."
James Scott "I'll be around. Was nice meeting you." James offers Vivienne an actual smile now. "Take care." With her gone he tugs his wallet out to pay for her drink. "Think I have work tomorrow too.. But I'm not nearly drunk enough yet." The teen sighs quietly, taking up his whiskey and downing it in a single gulp.
Chris Redfield Chris turns his head to look at Viv, as she says she needs to talk to him again and quirks an eyebrow slightly, "Sure. Be safe." He thought he had pegged her for shy when they first met, but she's not apparantly and never judge a book by it's cover. The small nod of his head is his only reply to her when she tells him to cheer up, but with that dour expression on his face it is wise that he didn't make any promises on that front. He just lifts his glass to her when she slides off her seat to talk to James before she leaves.

The seat is now empty between him and James. There is a long pause, nobody wants to sit in between these two it seems so the seat remains empty for the time being.

Chris just stares up at the tv, not really paying attention to the game at all as his mind is clearly elsewhere. The band continues to play, now doing a cover of the Foo Fighters, No Way Back and the crowd is stil dancing, singing along to it. Everyone is having a lot of fun on Halloween this night. Well most people are anyways.
James Scott "Fuck it." James throws down enough euros to cover the drinks plus a tip. He rises up onto his feet and pushes his way through the crowd, out the door, and back the way he came. Maybe he'd start shooting up again or maybe he'd slit his wrists in the pool. He'd decide on the walk home.
Chris Redfield Chris glances towards James when he swears and then leaves. Watching the kid, push his way out through the crowd. He shakes his head, looking at the full glass of whiskey he just got, his third glass and then slides it away from him. He stands, throwing a few more bills on the table for Dave and gives the young bartender a farwewell nod. Dave, picks up the full glass of whiskey that Redfield just left behind, saluting him with it and puts it away behind the bar.

He doesn't push his way through the crowd, like James does because he's not angry at them, he's angry at himself but this night has taught him something he had forgotten. You can't run away, it always catches up to you and the real monsters aren't out there hiding in the shadows, they aren't created in some labs or injected into your veins. The real monster is fear and he's faced that many times before and won.

Redfield, heads out the door and steps out in the night air. More people in costumes walk on by, friends, families and strangers who feel this night is about pretending to by someone your not or it could be that this is the only night that they can be who they really are. He heads back to his apartment, he's got work to do.