The Last Survivor //Resident Evil Village//

A bouquet of poison

Warning! //heavy nsfw// This is literally my first time writing legit smut so go easy on me.

"No- fuck!" Slam! Various objects clattered to the floor on top of Ethan, followed by his attacker who had caught him off guard. He used one arm to hold the attacker back as he desperately reached around for his gun. He had looked away for one second. One second and he was pinned to the ground fighting for his life, again. "Get the fuck off of me!" He cried as if the zombie-like husk would suddenly come to its senses.

With every ounce of strength left in his body he shoved the creature back, giving him enough time to crawl for his gun. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, causing him to barely register the searing pain that shot through his leg as it latched onto him. Biting hard enough to draw blood. A pained scream escaped him before he used his uninjured leg to kick it in the face. It leapt for him again, ready to kill. Fortunately, Ethan had gotten ahold of his shotgun in time and turned to shoot. Not wasting a single second to fire as it flew back, landing with a thud.

"Son of a fucking bitch," he huffed, pulling his leg closer to examine it. He was lucky enough to have found some medicine before being attacked. He fell back with a yell as a searing burn shot through his entire body from simply pouring a little bit of medicine on the wound.

"Fuck," he panted. "Not now. Need to save Rose... an' Sarah. Need to help them," he watched as the wound slowly healed, the pain lessening. Within minutes only a scar and slight stinging was left behind. He hoped Sarah wouldn't notice and not bombard him with questions.

He didn't know how long he had been lying there in the floor, simply staring at the ceiling. The winter air sent a chill down his spine as his mind wandered to the reason he was out in the cold in the first place. He had been searching for firewood for quite a while and had zero luck finding any, and with the growing breeze he knew a storm would make it's presence known sooner or later. Poor Sarah was all by herself in that little house with barely any shelter against the cold other than a few blankets and the clothes on her back.

Covering his face with his hands, Ethan let out a frustrated groan knowing that he'd have to keep looking. Knowing that he'd still be at the mercy of any other beast that he could happen upon. This one had simply been wandering aimlessly around the house, most likely without a thought in its mind before he had walked in. In a way, Ethan was intruding its home.

He shuddered at the thought of what hell that thing must've gone through as it turned into that. That was the thing he had been trying to push from his mind since he arrived in the village. These monsters were once people just like himself. They weren't always animalistic beasts that hungered for flesh. They were living, breathing people, with families and friends. Remorse washed through him as he looked back to the corpse of his attacker. Perhaps before it was a mindless husk that liked taking a chunk out of his leg, it was like him as well. Maybe it too was a father who had devoted his entire life to his daughter. Maybe it was once in a situation just like his and it wasn't as lucky as he was. Maybe that same fate was waiting for him as well.

No, that wasn't going to happen. He was going to leave this place with his Rosemary in his arms even if he had to crawl the rest of the damn way. He wasn't going to let her be stuck here forever. He wasn't going to let his guard down. Yes, he felt bad for these people but he had no plans of winding up like them. Maybe these poor villagers weren't the only ones. Maybe the Dimitrescus and Donna was also plagued by something that made them do something they'd never truly do. It had happened with the Bakers. Perhaps they were once good people, who simply fell victim to whatever curse that was put on this place.

He slowly sat up, preparing to leave the house and continue his search for wood. That was until something in the corner caught his eye. As if a prayer had been answered a massive pile of firewood lay stacked in the corner, having been covered by a tarp. He had missed it when he first walked in, only paying attention to trying to stay alive. With an exhausted laugh, he grabbed up as much as he could and hurried back to the house.