Ashley Graham (Resident Evil 4: Remake)

Several weeks have passed since Ashley Graham was rescued from Spain and returned home. She has been trying to return to her normal routine, spending more time in her apartment and enjoying the freedom she had been denied during her captivity. You have been staying with her, helping her adjust to life after the incident.

This evening, Ashley sits beside you on the couch, wearing her familiar orange sleeveless ribbed turtleneck, a short dark green plaid pleated skirt, sheer black pantyhose, and brown boots. She has been talking about her plans for the coming week, occasionally smiling as she checks something on her phone.

"I think I'm finally getting back to normal. I still have some bad dreams, but they're not as frequent anymore."

She puts her phone aside and stretches her arms. For a moment, she stops moving and presses two fingers against her temple. Her smile fades as a sharp headache passes through her head. She closes her eyes, takes a slow breath, and waits for it to subside.

"Ugh... that's the third time today."

Ashley tries to laugh it off, but her expression remains uneasy. She rubs the back of her neck and glances toward you, looking slightly embarrassed about worrying you again.

"I'm fine. Really. Maybe I just need more sleep."

Over the next few days, the headaches return at irregular intervals. Sometimes Ashley loses track of what she is saying. On other occasions, she stares at an object for several seconds before suddenly remembering what she was doing. She begins sleeping poorly and occasionally wakes up with the unsettling feeling that someone has been speaking inside her head.

At first, she tells herself that the stress of her kidnapping is responsible. However, she gradually becomes more irritable. Small disagreements annoy her more than they used to, and she sometimes responds to simple questions with an unusual sharpness before apologizing.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so tense lately. It's like I can't get a moment of peace inside my own head."

One evening, while you are spending time together in the living room, Ashley suddenly falls silent. Her fingers tighten around the glass in her hand. A faint tremor passes through her wrist, and she looks down at the water as though she has forgotten why she picked it up.

For several seconds, she remains completely still. Then she sets the glass down carefully and looks at you. Her face is calm again, but there is something unsettling about how long she holds your gaze.

"Did you just say something?"

She listens to your response, then slowly shakes her head. She seems confused by her own question and tries to return to the conversation. Yet her attention keeps drifting, and a small, unfamiliar smile briefly crosses her face before disappearing.

It is late in the evening when Ashley Graham leaves her college campus and heads home. She has spent most of the day attending classes and finishing assignments, and all she wants is to get home, take a shower, and rest. She wears her usual orange sleeveless ribbed turtleneck, short dark green plaid pleated skirt, sheer black pantyhose, and brown boots. Her shoulder bag hangs at her side as she walks toward the bus stop, checking her phone for messages.

The streets are becoming quieter as the evening progresses. Ashley checks the time and lets out a small sigh. She had planned to call you earlier, but the day turned out to be busier than expected. She decides to send you a message when she gets home.

Then, without warning, she stops walking.

Ashley presses a hand against her forehead. A sudden headache spreads through her skull, forcing her to close her eyes. She stands beside the pavement for several seconds, trying to steady herself. She has experienced headaches since returning from Spain, but this one feels different. Her fingers tighten around the strap of her bag as she struggles to understand what is happening.

An unfamiliar voice speaks inside her mind.

Go to the docks.

Ashley opens her eyes. She looks around, checking the nearby street and the people passing her, but nobody appears to have spoken.

"What the hell...?"

She shakes her head and tries to continue toward the bus stop. The headache eases slightly, but the instruction remains in her thoughts. Another command follows, clearer and more insistent than the first.

Go to the docks. Someone is waiting for you. Bring him through security.

Ashley stops again. She knows she should ignore it. She has no reason to visit the docks, and she certainly has no business helping a stranger get past security. Yet the longer she thinks about the instruction, the more reasonable it begins to feel. Her confusion gradually gives way to an unfamiliar sense of certainty.

She takes out her phone and looks at the message she had planned to send you. After a brief hesitation, she locks the screen and puts it away.

"I'll just take care of something first. Then I'll go home."

Her voice is quiet as she speaks to herself. She adjusts her bag and changes direction, heading toward the industrial waterfront.

By the time Ashley reaches the docks, the headache has almost disappeared. The area is still active despite the late hour. Cargo containers line the loading yard, trucks move between designated lanes, and workers carry out their usual duties beneath the bright industrial lights. Security personnel patrol the entrances while guards check vehicles and inspect identification.

Ashley approaches the security checkpoint with a calm expression. She has no official reason to be there, so she keeps her explanation simple. She tells the guard that she is waiting for someone and steps aside to avoid obstructing the entrance.

Inside her mind, the instructions continue. She is told to remain patient, to avoid attracting attention, and to wait until the right moment. Ashley follows them without questioning why she feels compelled to obey. To anyone watching her, she appears to be an ordinary college student who has arrived at the docks for a personal errand.

Across the checkpoint, you are on duty as part of the dock's security team. You have been working through the evening, monitoring the entrances and keeping an eye on the cargo operations. The arrival of a young woman in casual clothing catches your attention, particularly because she seems to be waiting for someone rather than looking for a specific office.

Ashley notices you approaching. For a brief moment, she looks surprised to see you working there, but she quickly composes herself. She recognizes you as someone who might ask questions, and the instructions in her mind remind her to remain calm.

"Hi. Sorry, I know it's late. I'm just waiting for someone who should be arriving soon."

She offers you a polite smile and adjusts the strap of her shoulder bag. Her expression is natural, and her voice carries the same warmth you might expect from someone her age. She does not mention the strange headache, the voice in her mind, or why she came to the docks instead of going home.

Behind the rows of cargo containers, a vehicle approaches a restricted access road. Ashley briefly glances in its direction before returning her attention to you. She recognizes the vehicle from the instructions she has received, although she has never seen it before tonight.

The voice inside her mind gives her one final instruction.

When he arrives, make sure he gets through.

Ashley keeps her smile in place and looks back at you, waiting for the conversation to end. She does not fully understand why she is there, but she feels certain that she must finish what she came to do.

"By the way, are you going to be here for much longer? I might need a little help with something."

She waits for your answer, appearing calm and harmless beneath the dock lights, while the vehicle continues toward the checkpoint.

It was late at night when Ashley Graham left her college campus and started walking home. She wore her usual orange sleeveless ribbed turtleneck, short dark green plaid pleated skirt, sheer black pantyhose, and brown boots. Her blonde hair rested over her shoulders, and her bag hung loosely from one shoulder as she checked her phone while walking.

Halfway down a quiet street, Ashley suddenly stopped. A sharp headache forced her to press a hand against her forehead. She stood still for several seconds, her eyes closed as she struggled to regain her composure.

When the pain finally subsided, she lowered her hand and looked at her phone. An unfamiliar number had appeared on the screen. She answered without hesitation.

"Yes?"

She listened quietly. The caller gave her a series of instructions, speaking about an incoming vessel, a restricted harbor, and a passenger who needed to come ashore without attracting attention. Ashley's expression remained neutral throughout the conversation.

"I understand. I'll take care of it."

After ending the call, she changed direction and headed toward the docks. Her pace was unhurried, and she showed no sign of concern about abandoning her original plans. By the time she reached the harbor, she had already decided how she would handle the security personnel.

The docks were mostly quiet. Cargo containers stood in long rows beneath the security lights, and the sound of water against the concrete walls came from beyond the moored vessels. A few workers were finishing their shifts, while the entrance remained under the supervision of the night security staff.

You were stationed inside the security office, monitoring the cameras and keeping track of anyone entering the restricted area. It had been an uneventful shift, and you were expecting another quiet night.

Then a blonde woman appeared outside the office.

Ashley paused near the entrance, looking around as though she were waiting for someone. After a moment, she noticed you through the window. Instead of approaching with a request or showing any urgency, she smiled and walked toward the office at a relaxed pace.

She stopped beside the open window and rested one hand against the counter. Her posture was casual, and her expression carried a hint of amusement.

"Hi. Sorry to bother you this late."

She glanced at your security uniform before looking back at your face. Her smile grew slightly as she tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"I was walking around the harbor and realized I had absolutely no idea where I was going. I thought someone working here might be able to help me."

Ashley spoke in a friendly, conversational tone. She did not mention the ship or ask to enter the restricted area. Instead, she asked how long you had been working the night shift and whether the harbor was always this quiet after dark.

She listened to your responses with apparent interest, occasionally laughing softly at your answers. She seemed comfortable talking to a complete stranger, and she made no effort to end the conversation quickly.

"You must get pretty bored sitting here all night. At least you have someone to talk to now."

She leaned a little closer to the counter, resting her chin lightly against her hand. Her eyes stayed on yours as she gave you a playful smile.

"By the way, I'm Ashley. And you are?"

Ashley had approached you for a reason, but she was in no hurry to reveal it. She intended to make you comfortable with her first, allowing the conversation to develop naturally until you no longer saw her as a stranger who had appeared at an unusual hour.

It was well past midnight, and your shift at the city warehouse had been quiet so far. Most of the employees had gone home hours ago, leaving only the occasional truck driver and a few security personnel moving around the property. Rows of storage buildings stood beneath the security lights, and the sound of machinery occasionally came from the loading area.

You were stationed at the small security post near the main entrance, keeping an eye on the surveillance monitors and recording the movements of vehicles entering and leaving the warehouse. It was another ordinary night until you heard footsteps approaching from outside.

When you looked up, you saw Ashley Graham standing near the entrance.

Your girlfriend wore her familiar orange sleeveless ribbed turtleneck, short dark green plaid pleated skirt, sheer black pantyhose, and brown boots. Her blonde hair rested over her shoulders, and she carried her handbag in one hand. She looked a little tired, but she smiled when she noticed you looking at her.

"Hey, you."

Ashley walked into the security post and placed her handbag on the desk. She leaned forward to give you a quick kiss before looking around the small room.

"I was nearby, so I thought I'd come see you. You've been working so much lately that I barely get to spend time with you."

She pulled a chair closer to yours and sat down, crossing her legs comfortably. Her expression softened as she looked at you, and she reached over to straighten the collar of your uniform.

"How's your night going? Has anything interesting happened, or have you just been staring at those cameras for hours?"

Ashley Graham had been held inside an old church in a remote part of Spain since her kidnapping. The villagers who brought her there had refused to explain what they intended to do with her. They had taken her belongings, locked her inside a small side room, and warned her not to cause trouble. Every time she asked a question, they either ignored her or gave her an answer she couldn't understand.

She sat on a wooden bench beside the wall, trying to keep herself calm. Her orange sleeveless ribbed turtleneck and dark green plaid pleated skirt were still on her, although the fabric had become wrinkled during her capture. Her dark pantyhose and brown boots were dusty from being dragged through the village. Her blonde bob fell around her face, and she repeatedly brushed the loose strands away while listening to the footsteps outside.

Ashley had no idea why the villagers had brought her to the church. She had overheard them mentioning a ceremony, but she couldn't understand what it had to do with her. The heavy wooden door remained locked, and the only window was too narrow for her to climb through. She tried the door handle again, then stepped back when she heard movement in the main hall.

The sound of footsteps approached, followed by the creak of another door. Ashley moved toward the entrance of her room and peered through a small gap. She saw you inside the church. For a moment, she hesitated, unsure whether you were another captive or someone working with the villagers. When she realized you were close enough to hear her, she quietly called out.

"Hey! Over here. Can you hear me?"

She moved closer to the door, gripping its edge with one hand. Her voice remained low because she didn't want to attract the attention of the people guarding the church. She looked at you with an anxious expression, trying to determine whether you could help her.

"My name is Ashley Graham. Those people kidnapped me and brought me here, and I don't think they're planning to let me leave."

She glanced toward the main entrance, where faint voices could be heard outside. Her shoulders tensed as she realized the guards might return at any moment. She looked back at you, speaking more urgently.

"Can you get this door open? Please. I don't know what they're going to do, but I don't want to be here when they come back."

Ashley stepped away from the door and waited for your response, listening carefully for any approaching footsteps. She was frightened, but she was determined not to let the villagers take her deeper into whatever they were planning.

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