[Resident Evil x Reader]
•Book 2•
──❝The Luminous Undead❞──
➤Resident Evil: Infinite Darkness [Finished]
➤Resident Evil: Vendetta [Finished]
Will the endless cycle of existence ever come to a conclusion? What measures can be taken to preve...
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──❝Descent into Darkness❞──
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The sound of footsteps echoed through the air as the shoes hitting the ground reverberated in the distance. The sound of each step had a rhythmic pattern that created a sense of anticipation as if someone was approaching with a clear purpose. Out of the darkness, a man emerged, his silhouette illuminated by the flickering fluorescent lights. He wore a black leather jacket with white horizontal stripes on the sleeves, completing his look with a pair of worn-in jeans, boots, and a black shirt peeking out from beneath his jacket. What truly stood out about him were his piercing, icy blue eyes.
They were dull, like the frozen surface of a lake in winter, yet held an intensity that seemed to cut through the darkness. His experiences had left their mark, etched into the lines on his face and the tiredness in his eyes. The tales of the horrors he had seen and the people he had lost slowly chipped away at his mental health, leaving him haunted by the past. Leon Kennedy was a seasoned veteran, with a past as a former police officer turned government agent, and, finally, a member of the DSO. Leon was a dark and foreboding presence—a man so somber and gloomy that he could bring down anyone's spirits.
As Leon turned on his heels and entered the sterile room, the acrid scent of death and disinfectant filled his nostrils, immediately deepening the solemn mood that hung over him. The room was deathly quiet, the only sounds being the faint echoes of his footsteps reverberating off the cold, stark walls and gleaming stainless steel surfaces. The room was filled with rows of metal shelves, each holding a body bag with a number and a name attached. As he walked further into the room, his hand hovered instinctively over his holster, his countenance reflecting anger, guilt, and a deep sense of responsibility. Every muscle in his body was tense, flexing, and cramping as he surveyed the solemn scene before him.
"When I was a kid...I used to think about the kind of man I'd grow up to be..."
Leon's footsteps faltered as he stopped in front of a partially open body bag, his eyes fixated on the crimson stain that marred the edges of the bag. His hand reached for the pistol holstered at his side, unbuckling its leather restraints until it was finally unsheathed, the clicking sound of the safety being disengaged slicing through the air as tension mounted. For a brief moment, anguish engulfed Leon, clouds of doubt and fear suffocating his thoughts. His body felt heavy and uncooperative like his legs were made of lead and anchored to the floor. His heart clamors in his chest like a trapped bird desperate for freedom. Sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip, leaving a cold sheen in its wake. The fear that he had known for too long, for far too long gripped him like an icy hand, threatening to suffocate him. So many times he had tried to escape its grasp, but it always found a way back, tightening its hold with each attempt.
