"Over here." Chris pointed to a vertical ladder leading down to the lower floor of the library.
Chris tested the old ladder first and climbed down with ease.
Barry followed.
Once Barry reached the bottom, Chris looked up and motioned for Jill.
Jill glanced back at Rebecca and gave her a reassuring smile before starting down.
Rebecca waited at the top, one hand tight around her pistol, the other on the ladder rung. Frost stood a step behind her, watching the windows and the shadows between the shelves like they might breathe.
Rebecca tilted her head at him. You go next.
"You go first," Frost murmured. "I'll watch your back."
Rebecca nodded and shifted toward the ladder—
KSSSHHHK!
The window behind Frost exploded.
Glass burst inward like shrapnel, spraying the balcony in glittering shards. A heavy impact hit the floor with a wet, brutal thud—so close Rebecca felt it through her boots.
Something warm splashed across her cheek.
For half a second, her brain refused to label it.
Then Frost made a sound—small, strangled—and Rebecca looked up.
Three long claws protruded from his chest.
Not scratches. Not slashes.
Through him.
Frost stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth like he was trying to speak and couldn't find air.
"NO!" Rebecca screamed.
She raised her handgun and fired—
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The shots tore through the wooden window frame and vanished into the night beyond. A green blur moved faster than sight.
Her wrist snapped sideways as something struck her hand. The pistol went spinning across the balcony, clattering into darkness.
GUH—!
A hard, whipping impact hit Rebecca in the abdomen. All the air left her body at once. Her knees buckled.
She tried to inhale. Nothing came.
As she folded, she caught a glimpse of it—just enough to haunt her.
Yellow eyes. Slitted. Unblinking.
A hunter's gaze.
Then—
Black.
The sound of gunfire snapped the others into motion below. Chris and Barry rushed for a line of sight as Jill climbed the ladder like her life depended on it.
"Soren!" Jill shouted—
But Soren was deeper inside the library, the towering shelves swallowing him. He heard the glass. He heard Jill's scream. And then he heard the sound that mattered most—
Frost hitting the floor.
Chris and Barry caught the final moment through the wreckage of the broken railing: Rebecca limp, her body held at the waist.
The Hunter moved her in front of itself in the same instant their guns rose.
A shield. A warning.
For a brief second it looked directly at them.
Those yellow eyes measured the distance.
Calculated.
Chris's finger tightened, then stopped. One mistake and the round would go through Rebecca first.
Then it was gone.
In one smooth motion it vaulted through the shattered window and vanished into the exterior darkness of the mansion.
Chris and Barry stood frozen, watching the void swallow Rebecca.
Jill reached the balcony a heartbeat later.
"Rebecca!" She slammed to the broken window and leaned out.
Outside was pitch black fog and treeline - nothing to grab onto. No footsteps. No direction. Just the cold realization that the Hunter was already gone and had taken Rebecca.
Soren arrived as Jill hit the window, eyes hard, breath controlled—but the edge in him was back.
"What happened?"
Chris and Barry didn't answer. Their faces were blank. Shell-shocked.
"HEY!" Soren snapped Wesker's old authority cutting through the air like a whip. "Talk!"
They flinched, the spell breaking.
Jill's voice ripped downward. "JOSEPH! Oh god, get up here, I need help!"
Frost was on the balcony.
And he was dying.
His skin had gone pale, sweat shining cold on his forehead. Blood soaked his vest in thick pulses, darker than it should've been.
Jill tore open her first aid kit taking the bandages out with shaking hands and began wrapping them tight around his abdomen.
Soren rushed the ladder and leapt, grabbing the balcony edge and flipping up onto the balcony and was beside Jill within a second.
Soren dropped beside her and put his palms over the wounds, pressing hard.
"Stay with me," Jill hissed, voice cracking.
Chris and Barry climbed up as Jill cinched the last wrap.
Soren looked at Jill and saw terror in her eyes even as she tried to bury it. Her hands were covered in blood. Her breath uneven.
He covered her trembling fingers with his, steadying them.
Jill looked at him like a blade.
"The Hunter took Rebecca. We need to go after her."
Soren's expression flickered. One sharp thought. Then another.
That thing kidnapped Rebecca… Why?
He glanced at Frost's weapons—shotgun. Launcher. The heavy hitters.
And then it clicked.
"Damn it!" Soren muttered.
"That thing was waiting," Soren said low. "It hit us the second we opened a gap."
Jill's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"
"I think It took her on purpose."
Soren's head snapped up, sudden alarm cutting through everything.
"The spray," he said. "Do you have it?"
Jill's face went tight. "No."
Chris and Barry went still as the same realization struck them.
"The Hunter took Rebecca," Chris whispered. "And the first aid spray."
Soren stood and moved to the broken window, jaw clenched.
"I'm going after it. I'm bringing her back."
"NO."
All three of them—Jill, Chris, Barry—said it at once.
"We don't have time," Soren snapped, anger flaring—not at them, at himself. "It wants us split. But we can't move Frost, and if we don't act now—he dies."
He pointed down at Frost like that was the argument that mattered most.
"Stay here," Soren said, forcing the heat out of his voice. "Keep each other safe. Keep him alive."
Chris and Barry lowered their eyes. They hated it. But they knew he was right.
Soren looked at Jill last. His features softened—just enough to show the truth underneath the steel.
"I promise I'll be back," he said. "With Rebecca."
Jill held his gaze. Reluctant. Furious. Trusting him anyway.
"Be careful," she said, voice tight. "Bring her back."
Soren nodded once.
Then—he jumped out of the second-story window.
Barry stared after him, shaking his head. "Of course he just jumps out the fucking window. Lunatic."
Chris didn't answer.
Because deep down, all three of them were clinging to the same thought:
He's the only one fast enough.
Thud.
Soren hit the soft earth below, rolled with the impact, and came up already moving, head snapping side to side, scanning for broken brush, dragged footprints, any sign of where the Hunter had taken her.
The night swallowed the mansion's walls.
Soren moved fast.
Not reckless. Not sprinting blind.
The woods behind the mansion swallowed the moonlight in thick layers of shadow. Branches clawed at his vest as he pushed deeper between the trees, senses sharp, breath steady.
He slowed as soon as he reached the dense treeline.
The ground here was soft from recent rain.
Perfect.
He crouched.
There.
Broken leaves. Compressed soil. A long drag mark through the damp earth.
Soren touched the print lightly. Three toes. Deep impressions.
Hunter.
But something about the spacing was off. The stride was shorter than it should've been. He looked at the drag mark again.
Rebecca.
The extra weight was forcing the creature to adjust its gait.
"Good," Soren muttered under his breath. For the first time since the attack, he had something to follow.
He rose and moved again, keeping low, eyes scanning ahead and down at the same time.
The Hunter had moved quickly, but not cleanly. Branches were snapped too low for a deer. Footprints sank deeper than normal.
And once—
He found a smear of blood on the bark of a tree. Soren's stomach tightened. He crouched again, studying the ground.
The drag marks stopped here.
No.
Not stopped.
Lifted.
The Hunter had adjusted its grip. He looked around the clearing slowly. Listening. The woods were quiet. Too quiet.
No insects.
No night birds.
Nothing.
The forest itself seemed to be holding its breath. Soren straightened and moved forward again. The tracks led uphill now, weaving between thick roots and low brush.
The deeper he went, the older the woods felt.
The trees grew wider.
Closer.
Blocking the sky.
Then he saw it. Through the branches. The cabin. The same one he had seen earlier from the cemetery.
Old.
Weathered.
Half-swallowed by the forest.
The wooden boards were warped with age, roof sagging slightly under years of neglect. One shutter hung crooked from a rusted hinge, tapping lightly in the wind.
The path of broken earth led directly toward it. Soren slowed. Not because he was afraid. Because he understood. "This is where your hiding," he said quietly.
The tracks didn't hide it. They walked straight to the front of the cabin. No attempt to mask the trail. No attempt to move around it.
The Hunter had brought Rebecca here.
Deliberately.
Soren stepped into the clearing. The forest immediately felt different.
Open.
Exposed.
The cabin stood in the center like a forgotten grave. Wind pushed slowly through the trees behind him. The door of the cabin hung slightly open. Just enough for darkness to breathe out from inside.
Soren's eyes moved across the clearing.
Windows.
Roofline.
Treeline.
Listening.
Nothing.
But the silence felt wrong.
Heavy.
Like the woods were watching.
He stepped forward slowly.
One step.
Two.
The ground near the cabin was disturbed more than the rest. Multiple deep impressions in the soil. The Hunter had stood here.
Waited here.
Then—
The tracks stopped.
No exit trail.
No return path.
Just the end of the drag marks near the porch steps. Soren's eyes narrowed. "You didn't bring her inside," he murmured. The Hunter wasn't stupid. It wouldn't trap itself in a wooden box.
Which meant—
Rebecca was nearby.
Hidden.
But the Hunter itself?
Still here.
Somewhere.
Soren stepped closer to the cabin.
The cabin loomed in front of him, warped boards groaning softly in the night wind. The porch roof sagged low, its underside swallowed in complete darkness.
The kind of darkness that hid movement. Soren stopped three steps short of the stairs. He didn't draw his weapon yet. The tracks ended here.
The drag marks where Rebecca had been carried stopped near the porch steps.
No return path.
No exit trail.
Which meant one thing.
"You're here," Soren said quietly. The forest answered with silence.
Then—
The darkness under the porch moved.
Not forward.
Up.
A massive shape burst from the shadows like a spring releasing.
Claws flashed.
Soren reacted instantly, twisting sideways—
—but not fast enough.
The Hunter's strike raked across his shoulder.
Claws punched through fabric and scraped along muscle before Soren managed to throw himself backward off the porch steps.
Pain flared sharp and hot across his shoulder.
Not deep.
But close.
Too close.
Soren rolled across the dirt and came up on one knee, handgun already in his grip.
The Hunter landed silently on the porch above him.
Tall.
Lean.
Its yellow eyes reflected the faint moonlight filtering through the trees.
Soren fired.
Click.
The sound was small.
Quiet.
But it echoed like a gunshot in his skull.
Empty.
For half a second he just stared at the weapon.
Then he remembered.
The Elder.
Every round spent.
The Hunter tilted its head slightly.
Almost curious.
Then it moved.
Fast.
It launched from the porch, claws sweeping in a killing arc.
Soren threw the useless handgun aside and drew the combat knife in one smooth motion.
Steel flashed.
Claw met blade.
The impact rang through the clearing.
The Hunter twisted midair, landing in a crouch and slashing again.
Soren slipped sideways, the claws carving deep grooves through the cabin railing behind him.
Wood exploded into splinters.
He cut in return.
The knife opened a shallow line across the Hunter's forearm.
Black blood dotted the dirt.
The creature hissed.
Not pain.
Recognition.
It lunged again.
This time lower.
Faster.
Those yellow eyes watched him.
Studying.
Calculating.
Soren circled slowly below, knife low at his side.
"You expected more of us," he said.
The Hunter clicked softly in its throat.
Then dropped.
Not at him—
Behind him.
Claws tore toward his back.
Soren spun just in time to deflect the first strike, but the second came immediately after.
The Hunter slammed into him full force.
They crashed into the porch steps.
Wood cracked under the impact.
Soren hit hard at an awkward angle, his back against the lowest step.
Before he could roll away—
The Hunter pinned him.
Its claws drove downward.
The blades struck the plate armor, slid off the edge, and punched through the side of his tactical vest into the wood beneath the steps.
Soren's body jerked tight as the fabric held him in place.
Pinned.
The Hunter leaned closer.
Breath hot and foul.
Teeth bared inches from his face.
It raised one claw slowly.
Preparing to finish it.
Soren's knife flashed.
Not at the Hunter.
At himself.
The blade sliced through the straps of his vest.
One.
Two.
Three.
The vest tore free.
Soren twisted violently sideways.
The Hunter's killing strike slammed into empty wood where his head had been.
The claws punched deep into the step.
Stuck for half a second.
Long enough.
Soren surged upward.
Lighter now.
Faster.
He drove the knife across the Hunter's ribs in a hard, ripping slash.
Black blood sprayed the cabin steps.
The Hunter roared and ripped its claws free from the wood, splintering the step apart.
It swung wildly.
Soren ducked.
Too slow.
The blow clipped his side and hurled him across the clearing.
He rolled through the dirt and came up breathing harder now.
The Hunter stepped off the porch slowly.
Heavy.
Intentional.
Soren's chest rose and fell faster.
His muscles trembled with the strain of the fight.
He could feel the heat building inside his body.
His heart pounding harder.
Faster.
Pushing.
Harder than it should.
Steam began to rise faintly from his skin in the cool night air.
The Hunter saw it.
Its head tilted again.
Not confused.
Recalculating.
The creature circled once instead of attacking.
Its claws flexed slowly against the dirt.
Testing.
Soren moved.
Fast.
Faster than before.
The Hunter struck—
—but Soren was already inside its reach.
The knife carved across the creature's thigh in a deep, ripping cut.
The Hunter jerked backward.
Not from pain.
From surprise.
For the first time since the fight began—
It had misjudged its prey.
It countered with a brutal backhand.
Soren barely avoided it.
The claws carved a deep furrow through the cabin wall behind him.
Wood exploded outward.
The Hunter lunged again—
And this time Soren didn't retreat.
He stepped inside its reach.
Knife flashing in controlled, surgical strikes.
One cut across the inside of the knee.
Another across the opposite ankle.
Precise.
Deliberate.
The Hunter stumbled.
Its leg buckled.
A second slash severed the tendons along its other knee.
The creature collapsed heavily into the dirt.
The Hunter tried to stand.
Its legs refused.
The creature looked down at them.
Then back at Soren.
The Hunter clawed at the ground, dragging itself forward with its arms.
Soren stepped back.
Calm now.
Cold.
Steam still rising faintly from his skin.
The Hunter looked up at him.
It didn't see prey anymore—
Soren had the eyes of a predator.
Piercing. Dominant. Absolute.
And for the first time—
Fear flickered in those yellow eyes.
Soren walked toward it slowly.
Knife still in hand.
He crouched in front of the creature. Met its gaze. "That's your natural state," he said quietly. "Crawling on the ground like a fucking lizard."
The Hunter hissed weakly.
Soren stood.
Raised his boot.
For just a second his expression hardened—cold, ruthless.
The kind of expression that once belonged to someone else.
Then his heel came down.
Hard.
The impact shook the clearing.
Bone shattered.
The Hunter's skull collapsed into the dirt with a wet, final crack.
Silence returned to the woods.
Soren stood over the corpse for a moment, breathing slowly as the heat drained from his body. Then he looked around the clearing. Rebecca wasn't here.
The cabin door creaked softly behind him. Empty. No sign of her inside. Soren stepped back outside, scanning the ground again.
Then—
A faint sound reached him.
Weak.
Barely audible.
From the side of the cabin. A dull thud. Then another.
Soren rounded the corner. Two rusted cellar doors sat half-buried in the earth beside the cabin. The sound came again.
A weak knock.
From beneath them.
Soren crouched. "Rebecca?" he called.
< Rebecca POV >
Rebecca floated somewhere between waking and unconscious.
Her head rang.
Her lungs still burned from the blow that had taken the air out of her.
The darkness was thick.
She couldn't see anything.
But she could hear.
Something heavy outside.
A distant crash.
Wood splintering.
A roar.
Then—
Silence.
Long enough that dread started to creep in.
Did it win?
Her fingers scraped weakly against the wooden floor. She knocked once. Then again. A small sound. Barely there. But it was all she had. Footsteps approached above.
Slow.
Measured.
Rebecca held her breath. Something moved outside the cellar doors.
Metal creaked.
The latch lifted.
Moonlight spilled down through the widening gap. A silhouette stood above her.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Still.
For a brief moment Rebecca froze. Because behind that silhouette—
She could see the clearing. And the shape lying in the dirt.
The Hunter.
Its head crushed into the earth. The figure above her stepped forward. Blood streaked his clothes.
Dark.
Wet.
Rebecca's heart lurched. For one terrifying second she wasn't sure—
Friend.
Or something worse.
Then the figure crouched. And the moonlight caught his face. "Soren…?" she whispered. He exhaled. Relief cutting through the last of the adrenaline. "Hold on," he said, reaching down to help her up.
"I've got you."