ꜰᴇᴀʀꜱ (ᴸᵉᵒⁿ ᴷᵉⁿⁿᵉᵈʸ ˣ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ)

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 29

As the train led Leon away from the crumbling ruins of the facility, the weight of loss settled heavily upon him, a suffocating blanket of grief that threatened to consume him whole. The roar of the engine drowned out by the tumult of his thoughts, he found himself drifting into a sea of memories, each wave crashing against the shores of his consciousness with relentless force.

He remembered Nikola's unwavering resolve, the way she stood her ground in the face of unimaginable danger. Her courage had been a beacon of light in the darkness that had descended upon Raccoon City, guiding him through the chaos with an unspoken promise of safety. And now? What now?

Now, she was swallowed up by the relentless tide of destruction that had swept through the city like a merciless tsunami. The thought of her absence gnawed at him, a gaping wound in his heart. She was gone... Gone... Forever. He would never see her again, never hear her laughter, never be subjected to her sarcastic remarks. That person... she was gone, completely.

He glanced to the side, watching the wall blur past him as the train continued its journey forward. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare, but every time he commanded his brain to wake up and stop playing these games with him, he was reminded again, his brain made it clear to him that this was real, that this was reality, that he was awake.

As he glanced down at the notebook she had left behind, a wave of bittersweet nostalgia washed over him. He remembered their fights and couldn't help but laugh. Then it faded immediately, and the sadness of the fact that he would never see her again choked out any positive thoughts that dared to creep into his heart.

He focused on the Notebook again. The pages were filled with her handwriting, each word a testament to her strength, smartness, resilience. Tears welled up in his eyes as he traced the curves of her letters, the ink blurring beneath his trembling fingers.

He flipped to one of the last drawings and recognized himself again. Himself in the form of a pencil sketch. His uniform with the gear was drawn precisely and accurately. Even his face was clear, unmistakably his own. She not only had talent in biology but also in drawing and writing. He had read a few poems... back then. When she had caught him, and when they then... He tried to push the thoughts away. Everything brought him back to the dry corridors. Back to places where she still existed... had existed. He knew he could retreat into those memories, but there was no one there anymore. Especially not her. He noticed the text.

October 1st, 1998

We'll make it out. I was right about him; he really is a help to me. I never thought I'd say this, but... I actually like him. If we make it out, I want to celebrate by.. I dont know.. going into a restaurant and throwing pears at the others?There's something about him... I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe it's the way he looks at me, or the way he talks to me. Whatever it is, I find myself hoping he makes it out of here in one pice. Oh man I really just hope he doesn't get in my way. I dont want things to end... this way.

Oh man, she wanted to get out of here. With me. And me? I let her die.

With a heavy sigh, he closed the notebook and tucked it away, a precious memento of the woman he had lost. The things she wrote lingered deep in his heart. It was like she just said this to him, her voice ecoing in his head.

After a while his ride stopped.

Stepping out of the train into the fading light of the sunset, he felt a profound sense of emptiness wash over him, a hollow ache that echoed in the depths of his soul. He made it. But at what price?

He wished with all his heart that Nikola were by his side, her laughter ringing out in the stillness of the evening. Saying something stupid, even mean. Just her being here.
He imagined the warmth of her smile, the way her eyes would sparkle with mischief in the golden glow of the setting sun.

Oh Nikola.

She would have felt the sun, finally, but now never again. She would never feel the sun again, not even her corpse, which would lie down there, in the stinking waters of the sewers, slowly devoured by rats and zombies. Even the food in her would slowly mold, her hair would become dirty and matted, and eventually fall out, leaving her head bald.

The thought was like a dagger to the heart. He wanted to go back and get her, lay her down here in the grass, let her feel the sun. She didn't deserve this. Not at all. He knew she had wondered if the sun would ever rise again; it was written in her notebook.

So he sat down on the roadside in the sun and hesitantly opened the book again. He took a pencil and wrote:

October 1st, 1998

You always wondered if the sun would rise again. And it did, Nikola. It rose for you. Even though you'll never get to witness it. And it's beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you.

He closed the book again, taking a deep breath. She was gone, lost to him forever in a haze of smoke and ash. The knowledge of her absence weighed heavily on him, a burden too heavy to bear. And yet, as he turned away from the ruins of Raccoon City and set out into the unknown, her memory remained etched in his heart, a guiding light in the darkness that lay ahead. He looked back once again.
The sun was blinding him.

Fears.