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 dark and silent; almost enough to put me to sleep here and now. I trudge along, both of us being too stubborn to speak first.

I can't believe this. Who is she to judge me for being a cop, anyway? She's just 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. Confused, I turn around, noticing her nowhere to be seen. I furrow my eyebrows, backtracking my steps.

I freeze for a moment at the drag marks on the floor. I instantaneously begin to sprint down the hall, finding the culprit within seconds. A mutated-looking ladylike figure is dragging her through a door. 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.

"You better speak." My tone drops an octave, getting serious at the threat.

"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 like the living do..."

I grip my pistol tighter. "Explain more! What 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. 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, but immediately position my gun and stance again.

The 'Arachna' lady scuttles over to me, one of her sticky, slim hands gently caressing my cheek.

"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 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 her winded.

It takes 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.
"Daaamn..."

A catch a small smile forming on my face, letting it sit for a moment before destroying the evidence. My head is tilted downwards as I observe her.

"Did you ever tell me your name, deviant citizen?" I tease, placing my hands on my hips.

"I think Martin mentioned it, law abiding citizen. Y/N Wolfensmirtzin Gherkinstevenson Von Fruelingischtimmer. And you're, uh..? Leon?" She raises an eyebrow, her sparkling eyes meeting mine. It's a shock how bright her face looks after the last hour or two.

"...Y/N what now? Uh, Kennedy. Leon Scott Kennedy. And I'm a cop." I decide to rub that in her face. I blink slowly, trying to process her name.

"Ugh, don't remind me. But I guess the uniform is a constant reminder." She shrugs, taking a few steps around the area. It's extremely dark. "Also, yeah, I lied. It's Y/N L/N. I made that name up on the spot."

"Oh. Oh, that makes more sense. Ah, why do you hate cops so much?" I lean back against the door, the extra feeling of security as I push my back against it to keep it shut.

"I just hate the system. It's a good idea, but it's so insanely corrupt. Like... cops think they're so superior... but you're all the same as us." She hesitates to go any further into the darkness. She instead spins around and approaches me. She can't seem to get her flashlight to work; the batteries must be dead.

"Yeah? And who taught you that? Because I can assure you that's not true. Cops become cops to help people." I decide to finally push my body away from the wall, pulling out my flashlight and scanning the area.

"Well, I disagree. Cops become cops 'cause they have nothing else going for them. I mean, when father got killed by one of your damn police force for, like, no fucking reason, they turned a blind eye. Told us there was no evidence. Didn't even look into it." She huffs, turning back around and following my torch.

I hum out of acknowledgement. "Seriously? What did he do?"

"Nothing! He was a good man. He did nothing wrong." She growls, looking mildly offended. I hesitate to speak.

"...I find that difficult to believe." I mumble, cautiously.

"Yeah, whatever! I didn't expect you to understand, anyway." She complains, trudging along. Our boots squeak against the damp floor.

"Why is the floor wet?" She adds on, carefully crouching down and sniffing the floor.

Slightly taken aback, I direct my flashlight towards her.

"Smells... Kind of like shit." She glances up at me, her hands in the liquid. It's difficult to be certain of the substance, as the floor is black.

She stands up, wiping her hands on her pants. She takes a few steps forward, before letting free a strained noise.

"Pugh!" She exclaims, suddenly flipping upside-down, yet her head hovers just above the floor.

Alertedly, I flash my light up to her immediately. At first glance, it looks like she's just floating upside-down. But at a closer inspection, I become aware of the needle-thin string-like contraption reflecting the visible light.

I lean forward, gently pressing my finger into one of the lines. As I try to pull my finger away, I notice it's practically become merged with it. I step backwards, once, twice, three times, until my finger disconnects with the mysterious structure.

I observe my finger closely as it slowly leaks a touch of blood. I glance up at the punk worriedly. There's dozens of them holding her together.

"...I'm bleeding." I mention, watching her come to the same conclusion as me.

"I don't care. Pull me, my blood is running to my head." She commands, sternly.

I nod, obliging with her request. I grab her hips, stepping back as far as I possibly can. Before I know it, I'm backed up against the wall, and she's still not free.

I try to pull her slightly closer to me in a final, futile attempt, instead slinging her back to her spot, about three meters away. I get forced to the floor, and she spins vertically.

Let's look at the positives. At least she's upright this time!

The force wobbles the contraption, the vibrations making an audible 'wibble-wobble' noise. Within seconds, the door bursts open and out comes a more primitive version of Arachna scuttling around the walls.

By primitive, I mean it's on all fours.

But it's not on all fours. It's on all eights. Like an oddly humanoid version of a spider, and it's extremely concerning.