23-year-old Leon Kennedy, Umbrella's finest agent, is sent to Raccoon City in September 1998, during the night of the horrifying outbreak. He's told to secure a sample of the G-virus and to get rid of William Birkin, as well as to kill any of the re...
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A drop of water lands on your face, waking you up.
Your lashes flutter. The light above you is painful to your eyes at first, so you cover them with your hand. Something itches on your arm, and you look to the side, only to realize you and your three companions fell asleep in a field of tall grass.
So far, you're the only one awake. The sun is at its highest, so it should be around 1 PM right now. In all honesty, your brain works surprisingly fast, body feeling weirdly good. How long have you slept? A day?
Remembering the events of yesterday proves to be harder, though. Getting on the train, the final fight — you're pretty sure you slept for a while on the train as well — and then you had to get off at the final destination, which turned out to be some quiet road miles away from the city. You stretch your arms, back cracking in the process, making your eyes roll back for a second.
Ugh. You're still very much covered in blood, though. That's not good.
Running a hand through your hair, you realize how thirsty you are, but it doesn't look like there's any water around here. Fucking great.
The thing is, you've survived living hell. That's awesome, right?
Yeah. But now you gotta deal with the aftermath of dealing with said living hell. Which means being far, far away from civilization. And you're hungry. Tired. A complete mess.
Wait a second — your eye!
You take the tiny mirror out of your pocket once again, using it to inspect your face.
"Holy shit." You mutter to yourself with a very hoarse voice from sleeping.
The thing is, your eye is normal again. The red veins are gone and the white of your eye is actually white again, rather than yellow as it was before, back when you didn't have the vaccine yet.
The cut on your cheek that William inflicted is still very much there, though, and it's not looking good. You gotta get it properly cleaned, as soon as possible, or it could get infected.
Letting out a sigh, you look at your fellow survivors. They're all still sound asleep, looking much worse than you are. Scratch that — they just look like absolute shit. None of you have eaten anything for hours, and you're still far away from the living, ironically enough, so you need to wake them up.
You nudge Claire's arm first for no particular reason. "Claire? You gotta wake up."
She wakes up with disorientation in her eyes, but gets back to business fairly quick. "Shit. How long were we out for?"
