Resident Evil Oneshots

{Carlos Oliveira x Reader} - Protector

Movie/Game : Resident Evil 3
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Stress, anxiety, fear, these things were what you felt as you fought among the crowd of the undead alone here in your once safe city you called home. The monsters that roamed the streets tore at people as if they were merely paper and chewed upon their flesh to turn them into the same monsters they were. Multiplying by the numbers as more and more citizens got bit and then turned and chose to feast upon others like a game that was popular. It was all around terrifying and frightening for you. First watching your neighbor get torn into as he pushed you into your apartment to get to safety as the undead piled in the halls. He pleaded with you to stay inside as his last words before he perished and came back not like himself the way you knew him from months before. The scratching of his claws against your door seeming to make you believe he would be stuck in your nightmares for a while if you made it through this disaster you had gotten stuck in.

Did you think this would ever happen to you one day, hell no. It was only a few hours ago you had just gotten home from a day at work. Planning on continuing your online classes for college since you were supposed to get started on your essay a few days ago. Putting the TV on as background noise while you worked on the couch to overhear the news report on the monsters that came back to the living from a virus. Your attention was brought to the screen as you watched with your mouth agape. The videos of monsters attacking people, screaming, crying, blood and guts everywhere on the street. But the one clip they showed of a reporter getting their vocal cords ripped out of their neck was enough to set you over the edge. Forcing yourself to tear your eyes away until you jumped off the couch to go throw up in the bathroom. As you sat there, your ears were almost ringing as if you were trying to block out everything around you. Not realizing the commotion outside of your apartment from how busy you have been. Car alarms started to go off from down the street and from what it seemed like people were freaking out in your building as you sat there. Realizing that was your new hell you would be stuck in until you found a way out of this place and away from the undead.

As an hour or so went by you had realized you couldn't stay trapped in your safe space forever. Trying to block out everything around you as if it were fine, a simple dream you could wake up from. Hearing screaming and yelling throughout the streets, banging on your door and other apartment doors beside you as the undead roamed the halls for their new meal awaiting. You wanted to survive, you wanted to get out of the city without turning into one of those things that terrified you. But hiding here like a sitting duck for them was just not your cup of tea, basically playing a waiting game as to what your future held if you were to die or survive like you had hoped for. Yet that heroic outlook was smashed as soon as the banging on your door returned, causing you to jump in fear. Knowing you couldn't go out this way, scared, alone and anxious. You had to shove down those feelings of dismay and uneasiness in order to make it out of this hell alive.

Gathering a bag of your things, essentials, and any "weapons" you had around the house. You were ready to leave this place and enter the nightmarish land outside. A sigh escaped your lips as you tugged on the strap of your backpack that hung on your shoulders tightly. As the sound of your door knob clicked and unlocked by your will, your senses were heightened by adrenaline. You were quick as you brought your clever through your neighbors head, watching his body drop, finally lifeless with no signs of returning to the living like you feared. This scenario continued on more then you thought, killing off anything that stood in your way to kill you. Over and over again until you reached the second floor of your building. Finding the elevator to be broken and the stairs to lead down were blocked off as if it was an attempt to save everyone inside. Which was quite a shitty job since everyone was basically dead already by their so-called attempt whoever tried. 

A groan escapes your lips, failing to move the several pieces of furniture blocking the stairs with your nimble hands. Wishing whoever pushed these items there would have used lighter furniture on their floor. Sweat dripped down your forehead as you rolled your sleeves up, realizing you had to find some other type of way to get down to the ground floor after giving up on lifting anything blocking your way.