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Leon's pupils widened, dilating so that they would pick up more light in the dim room. His breath got caught in his esophagus, clumping into the form of a hardened ball of oxygen that was sitting in his throat. Leon's chest was heaving now, both in panic and in a futile attempt to deliver air into his lungs.
Holy shit.
He couldn't move, his limbs feeling heavy amidst the screams of his colleague who was clawing at his legs. Leon's hands were on either shoulder of the dismembered man, his hands idle against the blue shirt his superior had donned.
"Jesus CHRIST!" His voice was a low shriek, filled with shock. If only I'd gotten to the door earlier.
Leon's frantic eyes scanned the room around him, as if he was looking for someone to tell him, "you did the best you could." The officer's right arm clutched at the intestines spilling out from under him, desperately trying to piece himself back together with his remaining strength. The injured man continued screeching in his ears, the remaining pints of blood pouring out of his body at an unimaginable rate.
His retinas dimmed, the final traces of life extinguishing from his eyes. The hand that was holding on tightly to Leon's forearm slackened, hitting the tile a moment later. Leon dropped his coworker, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the dismembered body. Portions of spine and membrane laid against the floor, sitting in a broth of ichor. The stench of spilt blood filled his nostrils, traveling up until it reached his brain, filling his consciousness with the putrid smell of guilt.
Leon shook himself out his thoughts, knowing he couldn't stop to grieve or else he'd meet the same fate. The zombies on the other side of the door, once content with half their meal, slammed against the sheet barrier - asking for the remaining half. Taking the noise as his cue to leave, he pulled his sidearm out of its nylon sheath and proceeded to the exit. Lingering at the doorway, he tossed a single glance backwards, a whispered apology dying on his lips as he pushed past the threshold.
Sorry.
The rookie tried pushing his feelings to the back of his mind, but his body had other plans. Tears ate away at his clear vision, and like the waves of rain that were pouring down outside, body shakes began to splash across his muscles. His adrenaline was pumping, his heart rate was up, but he could not stop the blindingly cold feeling enwrapping him whole.
His stomach lurched forward, slamming the contents against the fleshy walls keeping them boxed in. He keeled over, dry heaving. Coughing out nothing but air, he steadied himself using the wall. Clearing his blurry vision, he blinked for a split second, yet the torn carcass reappeared in the darkness hiding behind his eyelids vibrant as ever. The light blue of the uniform, mixed with the dark stains of maroon pooled around the upper body of the man he would've gotten to know had he not been late to his first day.
Had he not broken up with his girlfriend, gotten drunk and arrived late, he could've saved this man. He'd already watched people lose their lives on his first day on the job, but this was his opportunity to save one. Despite the accolades he acquired at the academy, he couldn't deliver when someone needed him the most. What good has praise done for me now?
A loud crash interrupted his thoughts - bringing him back into reality. His body was still under direct control of grief and panic, but his eyes and ears were operating of their own accord. Reanimated corpses hobbled over the window stool, eyes locked onto their breathing sustenance. Using his left hand to balance himself, Leon brought his pistol to his eye. He squeezed the trigger three times, but only a single projectile hit its intended receiver.
Relax, Leon, you got this. Get to the lobby, and you'll be alright.
Pressing forward, he slogged his way past the flooding bathrooms, and back towards the narrow hallway he just cleared. Leon forced another deep breath of air into his panicking lungs. The very next step he took, his foot grazed a fallen can of soda under the murky water. He rolled his ankle and fell in the water logged hallway. Cursing under his breath, he turned and fired off four more shots, staggering his pursuers. Reaching for a solid surface, he hauled himself to his feet. Stop fucking up, or you will die.
Clearing the hallway without any further mistakes, he turned to the exit, notebook in his possession. He spotted the light coming from under the jammed door, and a swell of hope infused itself into his dejected frame. Only for a zombie waiting at the corner for him to arrive, to stamp out any relief he received. Too close for him to raise his gun to fire, the zombie shoved its entire weight onto him. Leon's right hand dropped the Matilda in favor of pushing the dead janitor back. His left hand reached to the belt of jeans, searching for the flashbang stuffed in the back of his boxers. Before he even had the chance to push the grenade into the mouth of the corpse, it's head erupted. Blood splattered across his face, staining his features with a hue of wine. Yelping out in surprise and disgust, he dropped to a knee, his hand reaching up to wipe his face.
"What the-" Leon took a brief pause to spit out blood not belonging to him. Jesus, that is nasty. "-fuck."
Reaching for the gun residing under the shallow liquid, he staggered back to his feet. Mimicking a dog, he shook his head, trying to throw off as much blood off of his face.
He turned his head, expecting to see the uniform of the Racoon Police Department greeting his vision.
Instead though,
Beige trench coat. Sunglasses. Bob cut hair. She donned a smirk that he knew all too well.
"Thought you needed the help, cowboy." Even if he closed his eyes, he knew that small smile by heart.
This didn't happen. I didn't meet Ada unti-
Her distinct yell rang out, a pained cry following soon after. His eyes dropped to her neck, where one of the fallen had rose to take a bite of her flesh. He tried to raise his arm, but the gun in his hand felt immovable.
Yellow teeth tore away, pulling veins and bone in a single action. Ada fell to the floor, blood pooling around her body, matching the color of her dress.
Leon, feeling like he'd just been uncuffed, pulled the gun upwards and emptied his remaining bullets. The zombie eating a filet of his lover suddenly had no mouth to chew with.
Rushing over to her side, he tore his jacket sleeve to shreds, wrapping it around her injury.
"You'll be fine, Ada, trust me." His voice was soothing as he could muster, but was teetering on the edge.
She responded with a gurgle of blood pushing out of her mouth. She reached up to cup the side of his face, a sad expression donning her features.
Not like this. Not like this.
His chest heaved in panic, his breaths coming in quickly, but shallow. His fingers applying pressure to her neck were shaking. His tear ducts, done with their break, clocked back in, dotting the edges of his vision.
"Ada, just breathe, you'll be okay." His voice lost his luster, becoming raspy with worry.
He blinked once, only for a fraction of second, and her once lively eyes were glazed. The stunning smile she once had was gone, in favor of blood dominating pushing out of the corner of her mouth.
Ada. Please stay with me.
Ada.
You'll be okay.
Right?
Ada let out an almost inaudible huff, her feet killing her. Damn, I might be getting old. Her thumb pressed the button, with the click of the car locking coming soon after. She stepped towards the mahogany doorway near the end of the room, her heels tap tap tap-ing in the dark.
"It's freaking chilly out tonight." She spoke to no one in particular as she reached for the cold handle. Stepping into the laundry room, she kicked off her uncomfortable heels. Her stocking clad feet weren't much better though, with the cold from the freezing tile seeping into her skin.
Shrugging her feet into a pair of oversized grey slippers, she sneaked into the kitchen. As she pushed past the cupboards - her stomach let out a menacing growl, feed me. Hungry or not, Ada planned to hop into the bed with Leon and go to sleep. This job had her on her feet for weeks, and she was in desperate need of sleep, food could wait. Still, a box of pizza lay crooked on the counter, and there were two pots on the stove with their tops on.
Shaking her head once, and taking a step towards the stairs, she was brought back. Her curiosity and cravings won out, with her hands popping open the brown cover of the pizza box.
"Oh, you little fucker, Kennedy." Ada whispered out in disappointment, her eyes blinking to make sure what she was seeing was reality.
The box lay empty, crumbs and grease stains lining the bottom of the package. Sighing in disappointment, she flapped it closed and leaned over the stove. Pulling the tops off, she peered into a sad pile of white rice, and some unidentified broth.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention to the fridge, silently pleading that Leon went grocery shopping.
Inside the very bright fridge, was a pitiful lineup. Eggs, a gallon of milk - that she was sure was close to expiring. A pitcher of a blue kool-ai-wait. Kool-aid? Why is it that when I'm gone, he goes back to filling the fridge with "broke college student" crap?
She dropped her gaze downwards to the first drawer. Packages of hashbrowns, bacon, and sausages. I don't wanna cook this now, though. Her upset stomach thought otherwise, but before she could respond, her name being spoken aloud cut her out of her thoughts.
"Ada? You're okay?" The half-awake voice of her husband caught her off guard. She turned around, muttering off a quick apology.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. I just got hun-" His arms wrapping around her waist cut her off, the rest of the sentence dying in her throat as he pulled her closer to his chest.
Even through her cocktail dress, the warmth he grave off was abnormal. Leon's heart was thudding heavily in his dress, arms covered in a thin sheet of sweat.
"You missed me that much, rookie?" Her voice came out playfully, testing the waters to see what was wrong. Her petite hands slid up the sides of his face, turning his head to face her.
Both of their gazes intertwined, worried brunette locking onto agitated azure pupils. His breath came out labored, his lips parting to choke out a sentence.
"I-I dreamed you died back in Raccoon City." Straight to the point, concise, but his voice was anything but sharp. His whisper came out raspy, Ada's thumb brushing over his lips to get him to relax.
"As if. Zombies, Mr. X, Annette. You name it, they never stood a chance." Leon let out a genuine laugh, his watery eyes shining with a slight twinkle of happiness.
"-ove you, Ada." The blonde agent's voice was muffled against her bare shoulder, his lips kissing the message into her skin. Her own heart began to race, the word - even cut off, was still so powerful. That was one of the things she admired about Leon since they first met, he could voice his thoughts without hiding them behind smokes and mirrors.
Years later, and she was improving, but she was no match for the rookie that wore his heart on his sleeve. Pulling away, Ada brought their foreheads together, the soft glaze of moonlight washing over them from the kitchen windows.
"I love you too, Leon. I'm here to stay, remember? Just like all those years ago, I have things to live for." Even if she fought hard to keep it under wraps, the blush eating away at the porcelain skin on her neck began to rise.
In a swift motion, Leon hefted her up into his arms, both of their gazes still locked. He gave her a once over, and Ada couldn't help but feel vulnerable. She hadn't showered yet, and she had her share of lacerations and bruises.
The look Leon gave let her know she had nothing to worry about.
"You look beautiful." This time the whisper was gone, instead replaced with a huskier tone. He brought his lips down to meet hers, engulfing them in an embrace.
When they pulled away for air seconds later, Ada quipped back. "Flattery isn't getting you anywhere tonight. I'm filthy. I need a shower and sleep."
He gave her a small laugh, his Adam's apple bobbing in amusement. "It was worth a shot."