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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Everything hurts.
It feels as if his back was split in half and a brick fell on his head. He can't remember the last time he physically got hurt like this.
His vision is blurry at first. He blinks several times and notices the scratches on his arms, his shirt cut open in some places, and suddenly he's slowly coming to the conclusion that his legs are dangling mid air because he's hanging from a fucking tree.
Blinking a few times again, he looks down to find he's hunched over several thick branches. Christ, he has no idea how he survived a fall like that, or how he landed down here.
"Gotta get out of this fuckin' tree." He mutters to himself, allowing himself to move from the branches to the trunk. He mentally thanks himself for at least wearing proper shoes and gloves for activities like this.
With a thud, he drops onto the ground, suddenly becoming aware of the heat. A light bead of sweat coats hits face, even though it's presumably sometime in the middle of the night, given how dark it is.
He must've been out for hours. The watch around his wrist is gone, so he can't exactly tell the time.
Okay. Focus.
Being fully awake now, he rubs his eyes to get his brain to work with him here. He checks his pockets and finds — well, nothing, except for a few painkillers, which he gulps eagerly.
Most of the gear was stored together in the luggage compartment of the plane, which, interestingly enough, is nowhere to be found. He wouldn't be surprised if it blew up into several pieces, so there's got to be more parts of the wreckage nearby.
He worries about the rest of the crew, wondering whether they're on their own too, and if they even survived the crash to begin with.
No, he shouldn't think like that.
Remembering he has an earpiece in, he taps it a few times to check if it still works. "Hello? Anyone? Can someone hear me?"
But naturally, he gets no response, save for the cracking noise that sounds like a distorted tv. He can't help but huff to himself.
Great. So he finds himself stranded in the middle of the jungle, his only weapon a combat knife and not a single damn clue where the hell the rest of his crew is.
All he can do at this point is go look for the parts of the wreckage.
He gets up from the ground on shaky legs and forces himself to get going. There's no time to wait around until something or someone might show up.
