Love From The Other Side ☆ Leon S Kennedy X Reader

4 ☆ Destined Enemies

I glance down solemnly at the mess of a girl beneath me as she suddenly collapses onto the fresh remains of her brother. She's currently not human, again. Is she an experiment of sorts? Is it genetic? Did she just simply sneak onto Earth? I scoop her up, slinging her over my shoulder and taking her up the stairs of the main room. I sit her down on the low budget medical bed, her unconscious body going limp as I set her down.

I've noticed that she turned into that monster again as she held her brothers hand. It's difficult to explain; it's like a furry creature of sorts. Not quite a werewolf, but of similar traits. Animalistic. She only turned back to normal as I peeled her body from her brothers.

The spikes on her battle jacket impale my skin, leaving little circular marks over my arms as I adjust her.

I drape my jacket over her trembling body, mildly concerned about the state of her clothes after her brothers whole blood circulation practically exploded on her.

Generally, I would disapprove of her clothing choice. Her whole attire just screams 'all cops are bad', which means that I am therefore her target audience. But do I really have the time to be mad in the situation we've currently landed ourself in?

Plus, I can barely even see her clothes over the layer of red coating her. I run my hand over her shirt, giving it a small scrub until I find the original layer.

Misfits.

Like, one of the most famous punk rock bands ever.

She's definitely going to hate me when she awakens and realises I'm a cop. I mean, I haven't really had time to process her personal style or mindset so far. I can't say I'm a fan.

I decide it would be best to dispose of the mess before she wakes up. I descend back down the stairs, pondering for a moment as I decide on what to do.

I spray the scene over with heaps of deodorant from a can I found on the reception table and light a match. I cough, my lungs filled with the particles, and drop the stick on the strangely mutated zombie, setting it alight immediately; as it begins to scorch, I notice that it lacks eyes... Peculiar. I glance down at the man, slipping my hands into my pockets.

For one, I could dispose of him. For two... that's her brother. I can't do that without asking her. She'd hate me even more.

But, zombies could easily be attracted to the flesh once it begins to rot. Or maybe even the freshness.

After weighing my pros and cons, I light yet another match.

"I'm so sorry." I mumble, aimed at both siblings, clenching my eyes shut for a moment before eventually opening them and placing the match onto whatever piece of clothing remains. I notice a necklace around his neck (or whatever is left of it) and quickly slide it off (as he's lacking a head), putting it in my pocket to give to the girl for later.

I decide that my best bet is to explore. I pull a flashlight from my pocket and focus it through the miniature gap underneath the shutter where he who we shall not name freed itself from.

This is my only option; any other doors are locked up and inaccessible. I double check the other side for danger, before laying flat on my stomach and sliding through the gap. I quietly curse as my bollocks slide over a zombies disattatched hand, shuddering as I get accidentally groped the whole way through. Fucking disgusting.

I click on the flashlight, shining it around. It's dark. I'm actually rather terrified.

As I walk through the corridors, my boots are constantly squelching in god-knows what beneath my feet. I try opening a few doors along the way, although the majority of them are locked; and after earlier, I'm not causing a ruckus loud enough to kill myself.

I eventually find a door that barges open with some force, grimacing at the sight of a small group or zombies. I pull out my pistol and one-by-one shoot them all in the head, blasting their brains out before searching all of the tables and sides. I mentally grin to myself as I shove some ammo in my pocket, along with some unspecified medical loot.

I pick up a piece of paper, reading it over when I feel an abrupt grab on my ankle. I yelp, dropping the paper and squirming. I look down to see a zombie from earlier with a police uniform and a gunshot wound to it's head.

Looks like I didn't do enough damage.

I grunt as it's grip tightens, and I instantaneously pull away and shoot it in the head another three times. I wince and peel it's locked fingers away from my ankle, moving away without a second thought. I pick up the paper and finish reading.

Page one.

Scotty here! A little time capsule for me :)
I asked out my sweet Ronnie three months ago today. Three!! I'm reciting the day I asked (to calm me down with the zombie stuff). She looked at me with those bright, beautiful green eyes of hers, and she kissed me. What a privilege...
I'm so in love with her, oh my.
We couldn't do much to celebrate our three months, since we're stuck in this hellhole. There's zombies outside the building, and all of the lines are down... I hope we can get help soon. Gosh, I can't wait for all of this to be over. I'll look back on this letter when we're married.

I look down at it with a weak smile. How people could find happiness with this going on, I don't know. I flip the page.

Ronnie here.
I don't think I can do this anymore.
Scotty got killed. He died. He got murdered by those bloodthirsty bastards.
One of the people who came in were infected.
I'm so scared. I'm also very certain I'm pregnant with Scotty's child. He told me, before he died, that he'd want to call it Cornelious. Maybe not.
I might kill myself.

I stare at the words silently, the messy handwriting staring back at me.

I slowly flip to the last page.

My name is Hunter. I'm a cop like Scotty and Ronnie. I found these letters from the past few days and wanted to give anyone who reads them a small summary... if anyone DOES read them in the future. To carry on their presence.
Scotty got bitten by a zombie and we had to blow his head off.
Ronnie shot herself in the head.
We knew she wasn't sure if she was pregnant or not, so one of our doctor refugees had a little look.
She was; the doctor said that it was from the early July. Which is, to my knowledge, a few days after they got together.
Oh, they deserved the world. What I'd do to be young and in love again.

I place the papers down gently.

I shake my head and walk around, looking for more supplies or useful information.

I open a drawer, seeing a silicone mold sticking out at me. Ew! A fucking dildo? Are you serious?

Underneath it, I see something shimmer.

I shudder, reaching my hand inside to slide the scarily realistic genitals to the side, instead grabbing hold of a key.

I exit the room, shining my flashlight around again.

I pause, listening closely to some small groaning and pacing sounds from around the corner. I peek over, noticing a herd of the undead racing my way.

Wuh oh.