Alright, so I decided to make another Resident Evil story. I like Resident evil *stares off into the distance*
Where was I? Oh right, this. Yeah, so this is my next fic, hope you like it. This isn't tied to my last fic at all, I just like using Leon as a character. He's probably one of my favorites in the series. I've been having sort of a tough time with everything lately, so this is stress relief. And just so everybody knows, this starting chapter is going to be a bit short. I've had one hell of a writer's block lately, and this chapter is me forcing myself to get out of it. So I promise that I'll have longer chapters after this one. This is just to help me get back on track.
Enjoy!
Help Me
Again. Here they are again. Another virus, a plague, a takeover. It was just like Raccoon city. Only now it was San Diego. Out of all of the places he could have lived in, it just had to be San Diego. Of course it would, fate just liked torturing Leon.
In less than 24 hours the entire city had been thrown in to complete chaos. People being infected, dying by the thousands. Leon didn't even know if it was Umbrella this time. He had just woken up to this. This horrible apocalypse being rained down upon the denizens of the city.
It started off just like any other day. He woke up at 5 a.m. like he always did. He showered like he always did. He skipped breakfast and told himself he'd eat tomorrow like he always did. The mundane schedule of the man who had just recently joined the San Diego Police Department. It seemed as if there was a pattern here.
He strapped on his belt and walked outside to one of the most horrible things he had ever seen. He hadn't once heard anybody scream as they were viciously attacked. He didn't hear any cars crashing into each other on the streets below. How could he? He was in his own little world, just living day by day.
No, he hadn't realized the chaos going on around him until he stepped out of his apartment door. It was just like Raccoon city all over again, only this time he wasn't prepared for it. The bodies of the apartments' fourth floor residents littered the hallways. The floor and walls had been painted red by the blood of the victims.
Leon stood there in shock. It took him a moment to realize what was going on. And when he did, he didn't know how to react. Sure, he had been in this situation before when he had "worked" in Raccoon city for a day. This was different though. He hadn't seen this coming. He was unprepared.
Once he had finally recovered from the shock of this scene, he quickly went in to action. He knocked on peoples doors to see if anyone was still alive. He was hopeful, but in the back of his mind he knew that everyone was either dead or had left. Still, he had to make sure nobody was here.
About midway through his apartment search, something struck Leon as odd. Why had he not been attacked yet? The corpses of the dead usually reanimated after being bitten or killed by another one of the infected. Did that mean these kills were fresh? Or did these corpses not come back to life?
This was answered by a simple moaning. It was the unmistakable moan of the walking dead. Leon turned around just in time to see the once dead body of a middle aged lady lumber towards him. Its arms were outstretched, clawing in his direction. It hungered for his flesh, and all he could do was stand there staring.
Leon got a hold of himself and went in to the apartment that he had opened. Closing the door, he met some resistance from the zombie that was trying to attack him. He pushed with all of his might, fending off the zombie. The door caught the creature's arm while trying to close, and Leon gave a swift kick, severing the limb. But of course, zombies didn't feel pain, and the only discernable reaction it made was a disappointed moan towards the meal that had gotten away.
Leon leaned against the door and slumped down. He hadn't realized it at first, but his hands were shaking, and he had started crying. This was new to Leon. Was he possibly, scared? If he was, why? Maybe it was because when he was in raccoon city, he had been in control. He knew what his next move would be. But he had just stepped out in to this. This had just hit him like a brick wall. He couldn't have been prepared for this, and he didn't know what to do.
He was powerless.
He didn't know how long it had been. One, two, maybe even three hours. Leon had slipped into sleep after what had happened. His body was in shock, and this was how he was coping with it. It craved control of the situation, but that was just out of its reach.
When he awoke, he realized that it wasn't his apartment. At first he was actually confused as to where he was, but the morning's events came back to him. The blood, the corpses, the attack, even the feeling of hopelessness that he had. It all came at him at once and overwhelmed him. Keeping his spot on the floor, he took deep breaths to calm himself down.
Leon decided that he would peek out into the corridor to see if anything was still hanging about. He slowly opened the door, hoping the creaking of it wouldn't alert the zombies to his presence. When he had opened it just well enough for him to see outside, he wasn't very shocked to learn that the zombie that had attacked him was still lurking about. It acted like a guard on patrol, charged with the task to kill anyone who tried escaping.
Leon quickly shut the door and fumbled the lock shut. He had his service pistol with him, but he wasn't about to go out there shooting. The noise from the gun would attract more of them, and he didn't need that. No, he would just have to camp out here until he thought of some sort of plan.
He couldn't think though. He was a man of action, not planning. All of his plans were made up on the fly. But with powerlessness came confusion. All he could do was sit there and panic. He knew he had to think of something, but all he could do was panic.
Resting his head against the door, he tried his best to run his available options through his head. He could run out there and start shooting, but he would most likely die. He could go from apartment to apartment, working his way out, but what then? Once he hit street level, he was out of options. That left one more thing, to stay here and wait it out. But the food in the fridge would only last so long.
Leon cycled these options through his head over and over again. After what may have been minutes, or hours, Leon lost track, he finally set on an option. He would move from apartment to apartment. That would get him closer to an exit, and he wouldn't have to worry about running out of food. He knew he would be in this building for a while.
Upon coming to this decision, Leon cracked the door open again. The zombie was still there, ever blocking his escape. He maneuvered his head as much as he could to see which apartment he would go to next. There was one about 30 feet down the hall, close to the stairwell going down.
He gathered his nerves and took a deep breath. After all of the mental preparation, he opened the door and set his plan into action. As soon as he stepped out, the zombie turned and attacked him. Leon wasted no time getting rid of it. He took out his service pistol and shot the zombie once in the head, killing it instantly. He didn't want to draw too much attention, but he needed to do this quick.
He got to the apartment with no other altercations, because that would be too obvious. No, he got to the apartment and discovered it to be locked. "Shit," Leon said quietly to himself. He tried the doorknob again, but to no avail. It was locked. The family must either be out of town or dead. Either way, he had to find a new place to go, and quick.
His eyes darted around, looking for another place to go in to. He noticed that he had gotten the attention of some other zombies wandering around. These zombies hadn't been here before, but he noticed that there were less corpses on the floor this time around. This proved that the attacks had been pretty recent. Nevertheless, this was bad; he really needed to find another apartment to take shelter in, and quickly.
He ran over to another apartment, this one being closer to the stairwell. The door opened fine, and he thanked his good luck on still being alive after that close call. He locked the door behind him as he entered, and heard a small thumping noise on it afterwards. He had no doubt that it was a zombie pathetically trying to claw its way in.
Leon gave out a relieved sigh and turned around. It was a sparsely furnished apartment, meaning there was probably only one person currently residing in it. Overall, it was spacious and didn't look like it currently housed any monsters.
He suddenly realized that he was hungry, and made his way to the kitchen. Hopefully whoever lived here had food stocked in there. Lucky for him, the fridge was stocked with a few different assortments of food. He would be ok staying in this apartment for a few days.
The decisions on what he should eat were interrupted by a loud noise coming from the bedroom. He quickly spun around ready to shoot anything that moved towards him. When he saw nothing, he went to investigate, making sure to stay wary of his surroundings.
When he got to the bedroom, Leon slowly pushed open the door. The low creaking of the large object only served to add to the straining tension he was already feeling. Tiptoeing into the room, he swung his gun around; first left, then right. He didn't see anything right away, and was about to leave when he was jumped from behind by a zombie.
It didn't look as if it had been eaten before it died, so Leon assumed that it was a bite victim who had succumbed to the infection here in the apartment. Despite this, it showed signs of rapid decaying like most of the creatures did when they became infected. The flesh peeled in places on the face, and the body was giving off a rancid odor. The eye sockets had sunken in on themselves, making the eyes bulge out in an almost comedic fashion, as if it were a character in a Saturday morning cartoon. There were only small chunks of hair left on its scalp, and that was peeling off too. Revealed underneath was the porcelain white skull.
Leon struggled desperately to regain his composure while fighting the thing off. He was a highly skilled officer, but wasn't prepared for a sneak attack like this. He gave a halfhearted shove and succeeded in pushing the zombie halfway across the room. This gave Leon time to bolt out of the bedroom and into the living room.
The zombie followed closely behind, literally centimeters away from grabbing him every single step. Being in an apartment, he could not easily outmaneuver the zombie, and was quickly cornered. Leon went to draw his weapon, but was horrified when he remembered that he had set it on the kitchen counter before going to prepare his "meal."
Leon looked desperately for anything that could be used as a weapon. The zombie lunged at him, and he was forced to use the telephone to defend himself. When the creature was close enough, Leon gave a hard swing, connecting squarely in the side of its head and sending it reeling. Leon took the opportunity to go on the offensive. He used the phone on the zombie again, and went to snap its neck. This move failed though, and before he knew it, Leon was down on the ground trying to fight the zombie off of his neck. It was so close though; close enough to where he could smell its rancid breath. Close enough to where he could hear the desperate moaning, the moaning of hunger. The meal was so close, but the zombie couldn't quite get to it.
Leon found one last ounce of strength in him and threw the zombie off. It fell and hit the wall, giving him enough time to get back on his feet. He ran at the zombie, and stomped on its head as hard as he could. The things head caved in, sending blood, skull and brain matter splashing on to the wall, floor, and Leon's pants. It made a horrible squelching noise as his foot moved around inside the skull as he tried to remove it.
He had finally succeeded in getting rid of this enemy. Shaken up from the incident, he sat down on a nearby chair to relax. He certainly wasn't hungry anymore, nor was he ready to try advancing to another apartment. No, he just needed time to collect and compose himself. And with that, for the second time that day, he cried.
