Love From The Other Side ☆ Leon S Kennedy X Reader

6 ☆ I Don't Like Spiders.

As we thoroughly explore the west wing, it's pitch black and silent; almost enough to put me to sleep here and now. I trudge along, both of us being too stubborn to speak first. My flashlight stays in the belt; I'm preserving it's battery.

I can't believe this. Who is she to judge me for being a cop, anyway? She's a punk, she doesn't get it. I want to help people. To be great like the man who helped me all those years ago.

As we traverse the corridors in silence, I feel a little lonely for a moment, and the atmosphere is off-putting. Confused, I turn around, noticing her nowhere to be seen. I furrow my eyebrows, backtracking my steps.

I freeze for a moment at the sight of drag marks on the floor. A trail of, well, nothing, in the (what was) a surface with a thin layer of damp substance. I instantaneously begin to sprint down the hall, finding the culprit within mere seconds. A mutated-looking ladylike figure is dragging her through a doorway with ease. I pull out my gun and aim it at her.

"Put the girl down!" I command, aiming it straight for the monsters head. It doesn't move a muscle, before finally dropping her unconscious body on the floor. It looks at me with all eight eyes, frowning.

"Oh, I'm sorry. She smells so appetising..." The creature snarls, showing off it's fangs like a trophy. It licks it's lips exaggeratedly, rubbing it's hands together like a fly.

"You better speak." My tone drops an octave, instantly becoming serious at the threat. My top lip subconsciously snarls in anger.

"I'm so hungry... and she smells like blood..." It smirks, salivating. The drool lands on sleeping beauty's shoulder. "The zombies don't taste quite like the living... No, not at all."

I grip my pistol tighter. "Elaborate! Who are you!? What are you doing with the punk?" As if on cue, the girl groans from the floor, stirring a little and growing conscious again. She reaches out towards me groggily, before the creature abruptly stomps on her wrist. She yelps, letting out a soft, strained whine. "Agh..!"

"Hey!" I yell, my face twitching with fury.

"I apologise deeply. My name is Arachna..." She licks her lips slowly. Again. "And my daddy was a spider, too. But I ate him. I didn't wish to hurt your friend. But I can't control myself... such soft flesh... such a delicious scent..."

"You actually wanted to eat her!?" I grit my teeth.

From the floor, the girl (who's name I never learned... or forgot), crawls over towards me. The mutation kicks her like a football, sending her flying into my feet and catching me off guard. I stumble backwards, but immediately resume my stance and position my gun once again.

The 'Arachna' lady scuttles over to me, one of her sticky, slim hands gently caressing my cheek. Her skin is coated with millions of miniature, sharp, sticky bristles.

"What lovely, smooth skin you have, too..." The thing grins, before letting free a startled gasp. I place my hand where hers was, as if wiping away the touch. I look down to see the girl desperately trying to do as much damage as possible, almost looking like she's gnawing off it's foot from it's ankle. She gets brutally kicked across the room again, smashing into a wall with immense force; enough to leave a dent in the wall and her breathing heavy and winded.

It takes practically no time at all for me to pull the punk off of the floor and drag her away. I sling her arm around my shoulder and dash around the corner, helping my biggest hater scamper along.

"There's no way we're killing this thing with a pistol." I pant, pulling her into some sort of chamber.

She groans softly, rubbing her side.
"That hurt, damn it."