-1

The touch of a gun to your forehead is a feeling not easily forgotten. Anyone who's been threatened like that and lived to tell the tale will tell you how it feels, the feeling of helplessness that comes with it, the terror that comes from the cool metal, knowing that only a small movement from the wielder is needed to send you to your final destination.

Pressed against her forehead was a gun. She couldn't tell what make it was, only that it was cold, dangerous, and very, very frightening. Her own weapon was pressed against the chest of her attacker, against the dirty white folds of a shirt, a blood spotted red tie, and an equally bloodied lab coat hanging about his shoulders.

She met his eyes and found them a cold blue, surrounded by freckles, stubble, wrinkled at the edges with something akin to utter hatred, to such an extent that she was almost terrified by that look alone. She kept it from showing though, and tried to work through it.

"…And I thought I was the last person down here…" she murmured, letting a little relief creep into her voice. She would have lowered her gun, but his was still on her head. He opened his mouth, and she expected to hear something friendly, perhaps an apology for the gun.

"Umbrella spy!" she couldn't believe the venom in the words, nor understand why he had said them, but the tightening of his hand around the deadly weapon at her head had her worried.

"I'm not a spy!" She couldn't understand how anyone could think that, especially from looking at her. "And I'm certainly not from Umbrella!" She could see he wasn't going to accept that.

"Lower your weapon!" he barked. She could see his eyes moving, examining her. They took in her outfit, the grime on it, the various bruises she was covered in…She shivered slightly, a chill running down her spine, the memory of Iron's gaze resurfacing. "And give me back my sample!"

"What sample? I don't have anything on me!" she returned, the same level of hostility in her own voice. She noticed he seemed taken aback by it, and mentally counted that as a win against him. Evidently he wasn't used to being challenged. "And I'm not lowering my weapon until yours is down." She did wonder for a moment that if she lowered hers, would he do the same? No, of course not! He'd shoot her, she could see it in his eyes!

He opened his mouth to reply to her when a hissing noise erupted from above them. She saw him look up in a flash and pale, stepping back. She looked up too, pointing the weapon up…at the largest Spider she'd ever seen in her life, as wide as a car, fangs bared and dripping with venom.

She gasped, eyes widening in terror as it loosened its grip and fell towards them.

Something barrelling into her, and for a petrifying moment, she though it was the spider - oh god I'm screwed - but the lack of fangs sinking into her body and the sound of rapid gunfire makes her look up.

The spider lay on it's back, twitching as its legs curled up slowly, and directly in front of her stood the man who only moment's before had been holding a gun to her head, pointing his weapon at the spider's dead body, breathing hard.

Suddenly, as if he only just remembered she was there, he turned to her and stepped back, looking down at his gun. There was no round in the chamber. The clip was empty. He was unarmed.

Their eyes met again. He spoke.

"Go ahead then. Kill me."