Stage Fourteen: Liberation


He was NOT thrilled.

He was, however, fucking pissed off like a prom date that had been groped by an overly eager date. He could FEEL the angry blood in his head. It rushed, pumped, and made him feel like he wanted to drop kick a grenade into the town square and just let it blow everything sky high.

Beside him, Sherry said, softly, "What? What's wrong?"

"Those people in that town?" She was looking through her binoculars. A woman was hanging laundry. A man was cleaning a dead chicken. Another was bailing hay.

"What about them?"

"Those aren't people."

She lowered her binoculars and met his eyes. "What?"

Leon shook his head and turned, scanning the surrounding perimeter. The little town was pinpointed on the map. It was aptly named Verdammt. It was slightly bigger than the stupid village where Ashley Graham had been kept. SLIGHTLY.

And Leon muttered, "Fick mich."

Sherry giggled a little and he glanced at her face. She answered, "I can't right now. But that doesn't mean I don't want to."

Amused, Leon winked at her and sighed. "Those are Ganado."

"What? How can you be sure?"

The second she asked, she was kinda embarrassed. Who else would know better? But she was curious how he could tell from a hundred yards out.

"Ganado are pretty fucking clever," He glanced back in his binoculars at them, "They can be hard to discern from humans. The only difference that I've found, outwardly? Is the eyes. Zoom in on the eyes."

She did now, utilizing the massive zoom of the military grade NOCS she was using. She zoomed in on the woman hanging laundry. She was pretty. Young. And had blonde hair in a bun. And her eyes? We're bloodshot, red, and weepy.

"Oh…ohhhhh." Surprised, she met ones that weren't. But in the early morning German air, in the pale gray light of a foggy day that promised rain, his were beautiful. And irritated.

She said, "Did you think it would be a cake walk then, Agent Kennedy?"

Leon laughed and sighed. "Hoped is a better word. It's unlikely they have Claire in the village. Honestly? We can bypass the town altogether and probably be alright."

Sherry held his eyes now. "You want to leave a village full of infected mutants free to just…roam the countryside?"

Oh.

Surprised, he held her gaze. Shit. She was going to be noble.

She didn't understand the simple truth he was trying to impart to her here: you didn't survive to fight again if you were always playing the hero. They were out numbered, out gunned, and it was SUICIDE to storm the village and try to eradicate the threat there.

He said, "If we go in that town cracking off shots and blowing shit up, we alert the surrounding villages. We have NO CLUE how wide the infection has spread. The control on this village indicates a master, similar to Saddler, close by. You can't fight a hundred of them at once and survive, Sherry. And if we die? Claire stays trapped."

Sherry eyed him. "We can't leave all these infected people just running around, Leon. Imagine what damage they could do."

"I agree. I'll radio back and get back up out here to clean up the mess. Don't worry, sweetheart, there are protocols in place for things like this. Us? We need to stay under the radar here. Or we can't help, Claire. That's our primary objective here. Rescue Claire. After that? We can start blowing shit up and pulling a Redfield." He was using that little communicator in his hand to send messages.

Most likely his handler.

He touched his ear. "Hunnigan?"

"Leon Kennedy," The girl on the other end laughed a little, "You devil. You went off the grid on me. I was starting to think you'd gotten yourself killed."

"No such luck, dollface. I was running down leads for Adam."

"Oh, he told me this morning in the briefing. The POTUS is aware what a wildcard you are, Leon. But even your long, long leash has limits. What's the word there? I've got your position pulled up as Baden-Baden? Why are you in Germany?" Hunnigan was tapping keys on her end on her computer.

"I tracked Claire Redfield to here. I'm utilizing assistance from Special Forces to locate and acquire her."

"Good. You have Agent Birkin with you?"

"I do."

"Derek Simmons is NOT happy about it, Leon. She didn't get permission to accompany you. She's, technically, AWOL."

Leon glanced at her face as she studied Ganados through her NOCS. AWOL. She'd gone AWOL to come with her. Little fool…he loved her like something stupid and dangerous and painful.

"I'll take the fall for it. I didn't know she needed permission. Tell Simmons I requested her assistance."

Hunnigan chuckled a little, "Will do but you should know, Simmons is pushing to get you fired. He thinks you're a loose cannon."

"He's fucking right about that." And they both laughed. "Hunnigan, this village is over run. Like Spain. There's Ganado three deep here."

"Shit. Seriously?"

"Oh yeah. Get the POTUS to sign a detox order and get the BSAA to start cleaning house here."

"Will do. You think it's wise to send out the call? Chris Redfield is the agent on tap here for that. How will he feel to know you didn't tell him his sister was missing?"

Leon laughed and shrugged but she couldn't see him of course. "Get Burton to run interference there. He was in deep cover. He couldn't be pulled. And I can handle Chris Redfield."

Hunnigan chuckled on her end. "I'm writing the report now. Stay clear of danger and locate the subject. Don't do anything too stupid, Leon."

"Would I? Me? Come on now."

They both laughed.

"I said don't do anything TOO stupid. I know better than to hope you can get out of there without making a mess."

"I resent that, Hunnigan. Really. You've hurt my feelings."

Hunnigan snorted. "You're a grenade, Leon Kennedy. You can't do anything but make a mess on a mission. Why do we put up with you?"

"I'm charming. The ladies love me. And I have good hair."

"…which is totally useless for anything other than making your pretty face even prettier."

Leon chuckled and didn't see Sherry giving him a very long look. "You're fond of my pretty face, Hunnigan."

"At the moment? I'm doing a lot of cleaning up behind the mess it's leaving. I'm not terribly fond of it."

"You love me. Let me know when there's boots on the ground."

"Will do. BE GOOD."

Leon laughed and clicked off his communicator. He turned and came face to face with Sherry's pursed lips and wry expression. He lifted a brow at her.

"What?"

"….I'd heard the stories of course."

"What stories?" He studied her face. "About what?"

"About you. And that."

"…what?" He laughed a little now. Because she looked quite irritated.

"Do you ever NOT flirt with girls?" She sounded so exasperated. She looked amused though so he knew she wasn't mad. She was just…curious.

Leon considered it as he picked up the shotgun and slung it over his back. He was in a smooth splice wool military style jacket with a high collar. It fit around his slim torso and insulated against the German chill. The cut was long and hit him midthigh. It played off the buttery leather tactical gloves he wore and paired well with the hounds tooth scarf looped easily around his neck. Beneath the jacket? There was no fabulous fashion happening. It was Kevlar and leather and meant to resist and repel attacks. He'd worn it over moisture wicking black beneath. The fatigues he wore were navy and full of pockets carrying various things. Each thigh was strapped with ammo or his spare sidearm or a knife. He was, a walking warrior in thousands of dollars worth of designer clothes.

And he was a NOTORIOUS flirt.

He replied, easily, "I do it without thinking, honestly. Does it bother you?"

Sherry's jacket mirrored his. It was similar in style with a high sweeping collar but in a good pea green. She wore her hair tucked up into a dark sock hat to cover her ears and had a little white scarf looped over her delicate throat. Her cheeks were pink and pretty from the fall chill. Her legs encased in dark brown and tucked into beige boots.

She considered her answer. "It doesn't bother me exactly. But I'm curious about why it's different with me then with other girls. You are…well…you're known for being a ladies man. I'm just curious how much of problem that should be for me."

Oh.

Oh shit. He stopped walking to meet her eyes now. He took her arm to stop her to face him. "Are you asking me if I'm going to be faithful to you?"

She considered this again. He could see her digesting it.

"I'm not sure that's something we even discussed before now. I don't…is that something you want? To be together?"

He raised both brows now, holding her gaze. "You're mine, Sherry. Mine. That means only mine. That's not something you want?"

Jesus.

She was standing in the cold German air having Leon Kennedy ask her if she wanted him. Did she want him? Was that the stupidest question anyone had ever asked? EVER?

Her silence actually…well…it made him a little nervous. And it humbled him. Because this would be the first women he'd actually wanted to keep…that maybe didn't want the same.

The tip of his nose was red. It was what was playing through her head as she stood there watching him. That face of his, it made her warm in her belly. And his nose, aquiline and sharp, was pink on the tip. As he breathed, curls of foggy white emerged, indicating how cold the air was around them. His ears were a little pink beneath his perfect hair as well.

Shit.

She still hadn't answered.

He started to drop his hand from her arm and she swung her little pack from her back and started digging in it. Leon started walking again. She realized, maybe a moment too late, that she might have hurt his feelings. And it warmed her to know she could.

"Hey!" She called after him and jogged to catch up.

And yep. Yes. His face was closed down. It was cool. It was the face of the guy who'd faced her down in that hotel room when she'd first come upon him. She'd hurt his feelings.

And hadn't meant to.

Sherry said, "Hey. Stop. Here, stop." And took his arm.

He stopped and lifted a brow at her. Sherry laughed a little, softly. "You wonderful smart and stupid man."

"…your compliments need work, Birkin."

She laughed again and tugged him down to her. She didn't kiss him though, she poked a black sock hat on his head and secured it over his ears. The instant warmth was pretty great. She said, "You're mine. Mine. Do you think I've spent ten years chasing you to let you slip away?"

And now she tugged his collar and put their faces close. "Mine. Stop flirting with girls so much."

"I don't know if I can. It's like breathing for me."

"You better try harder, Kennedy. Or I'll make you a ghost for real."

He laughed and kissed her. She put her hands around his collar and went on tip toe to get closer. Her leg actually kicked out at the knee. It went SWOOP and came up. Like a Hollywood movie. She hadn't even been aware that kissing actually made legs do that.

And a heavily accented voice said, in guttural German, "Ich werde dich töten."

Leon shoved her behind him and the roar, roar, roar of gasoline and metal and jagged teeth was loud as the sound of a chainsaw firing up filled the quiet morning air. The man wielding it was fat. Super fat. His enormous fat belly jiggled like Santa Claus beneath his filthy white shirt. The shirt had brown stains all over it and sweat stains at the armpits. His smell, caught in the cool breeze, was ripe and rich with body odor.

His face was hairy and greasy. He was missing an eye. The socket was just…empty. It was empty and filmed over with a little flap of tissue that pulsed when he breathed. His beefy hands held that roaring, rusty, deadly chainsaw above his head without hesitation.

Leon swung the shotgun to his shoulder and Sherry was already firing.

He jacked a shell in the chamber and they heard it. They heard the rustle of leaves and feet rushing. They heard the yelling. The town was coming.

They didn't have time now to stand here facing off with a fat chainsaw man.

Sherry shot him in the face anyway. The chainsaw man didn't care. He started running with that fat belly jiggling. Leon shot him with the heavy Mossberg clean in the chest. It took flesh, bone, and sprayed blood in a burst. And that didn't slow him down either.

They separated; Sherry went left and Leon right. They split his focus. He chose Leon as the greater threat and started advancing. Sherry shot him again in the back and jerked.

Someone had thrown something at her.

She looked down at the broken bottle on the ground beside her and turned. There were dozens of them coming. She shot three in the face before she yelled, "LEON! We have to run!"

He'd blasted the fat chainsaw man twice more with the shotgun. The fat gut was oozing and spilling intestine from the mangled cavity. He was unfazed. He just kept coming. The chainsaw came down and Leon ducked left to miss it taking him at the neck and shoulder.

He threw out a leg and tripped the chainsaw man as he went. The fat man stumbled, hit a tree, and the chainsaw bucked and roared into the bark. It sprayed chunks and sent birds squawking in anger. Leon shot him in the back of the head with the shotgun.

It worked, the chainsaw man flopped, face gone and went down like a felled tree. But he swung the roaring chainsaw as he went. It clipped Leon along the side of the face like a mailed fist. The shotgun went spinning as he tried to keep from being knocked unconscious.

He went over onto his back while stars burst, literally, in front of his eyes.

Sherry grabbed his jacket and jerked. He was tossed, sharp and quick, to his feet. She looped his arm over her shoulders and forced him into a run with her. Impressed, he let his body do its job and run.

They ran while forty infected freaks gave chase, shouting and throwing things.

Sherry kept him upright while they fled. And he saw what she meant. She was strong. She was fast. She was able to move him without flagging. He gathered enough strength to separate from her finally and they kept running.

They hit the far side of the forest and burst into a courtyard. An enormous mansion waited there, clearly Romanesque in influence, easily identified by its round arches in conjunction with bulky-appearing stone masses in thick, fortress-like walls. God, he HATED European mansions and castles. Nothing good waited inside of there.

Nothing.

They rushed across the courtyard and the doors were opened as if someone were waiting for them. With no other choice, they burst inside the foyer of the beautiful mansion and spun back, slamming the doors behind them.

The vaulted ceilings were beautiful and the tapestries, the rugs, and furniture were old and distinguished. The house smelled of lemon and rosemary. The mansion was well maintained and beautiful from one stone wall to the other.

Damn these gothic style buildings. Creepy. Creepy and closed off and isolated and…full of cobwebs and nightmares.

There was a high pitched laugh from behind them.

They spun, together, and were both aiming at the top of the long staircase.

And then? Well…there were other reasons he hated European castles and mansions. And it wasn't just enclosed spaces and narrows hallways and jump scares.

The biggest guy alive was coming down the stairs. He was in a silver tuxedo. Silver. It glittered like a Broadway dancer's costume as he moved. His handsome face was all jaw, all little natty beard, and sparkling eyes. He was freakishly tall. He was muscled like a Greek god. And he was carrying a very, very, very sharp katana.

"Oh, how eccitante!" And he had a thick Italian accent that was surprisingly high pitched and sorta girly, "Albert said to wait. He said to me. WAIT ALESIO…WAIT. HE KNEW you were coming! He knew. He is so brilliant. He is Dumbledore, yes? Never misses a trick."

Leon answered him now, breathing heavily from their run, "You're gonna want to stop right there, big guy. Right there. You keep coming down those stairs with that big ass sword and I'm gonna make your pretty jacket look like swiss cheese."

Alesio stopped, blinking. And he laughed.

He laughed.

"Oh…oh oh oh! You are brave! You are a…what is it the Germans call it? Shattenwolfe? The shadow wolf yes? The man who hunts the unknown. You have come for my red haired beauty no doubt? My Redfield."

Sherry spoke now, loudly, "Where is she!? You have Claire? Give her to us – NOW."

Alesio turned his attention to Sherry and grinned. "A sprite. A fiery sprite. A small and beautiful sprite come to fight for her…mother? No. Sister? No. For her lover?"

He glanced at Leon and back at Sherry. "And no again. For that floats around the two of you like a ghost. Well…no worries…she is GONE. Fled. Run for the hills as they say. She is no longer in my care…but there is good news!"

Sherry snorted a little, "What's that?"

"You are here to take her place!"

"What kinda crack you been smokin, big guy?" Leon asked, tilting his head, "This look like a surrender to you?"

"I do love that quaint American slang. What is "crack"?" Alesio shrugged and laid his sword on the ground. "There! I have surrendered my weapon. I am no threat. Now you may lower yours."

Sherry glanced at Leon. He kept his gun trained. So, she did too.

Alesio's smile wilted around the edges. "It is rude to offer violence when none has been exhibited toward you. I tire of this rudeness. Lay down your guns."

Leon laughed a little. "How about you lay down instead? We'll cuff you and then, maybe, we'll put up our guns."

Alesio studied him. "I like your pretty face. I dislike your uncouth behavior. I will rid you of it quickly."

Sherry shouted in surprise as he moved. He just ran. Leon fired and hit him in the chest. He didn't stop. Sherry drilled him twice and he backhanded her. She went up and out and hit the far wall, sliding to the ground.

Leon ducked, missed the same fate, and shoved his gun into the other man's groin as he went into a crouch. He fired twice and watched the blood burst all over that flashy silver suit. Alesio grunted, grabbed his throat, and jerked him off his feet.

He shook him hard enough to toss his body like a doll and gnash his teeth together. "Pretty fool! I will enjoy playing with you."

Leon kicked him in the face while he shook him. Alesio recoiled and punched him in the stomach. It felt like being kicked by a buffalo.

Sherry shot Alesio twice in the back and he shifted, twisted, and threw Leon at her.

They crashed together and came down in a heap.

Alesio drove his boot down and Leon caught it, twisted, and rolled. He drove his own foot into the exposed groin of the other man twice, humped his body up, and jerked his leg. Alesio went off balance and down onto one knee.

Sherry ran for the katana on the stairs.

Alesio caught the side kick Leon threw at his face, spun him away, and grabbed him around the waist. He tossed the smaller man over his shoulder, rose to his feet, and rolled him into his arms like a baby. Leon let him do it, spilled against his chest, and drove his combat knife hilt deep into it.

The other man gasped in surprise and bobbled him. Leon jerked the knife clean in a spray arch and Alesio dropped to one knee and let go of him. Leon hit that knee with his back and it hurt. It hurt and stole his breath. Alesio, seizing the advantage, gushing blood like a geyser…and showing no sign of slowing down…twisted the wrist with the combat knife and reversed it.

Sherry shouted out a warning and Alesio shoved Leon's own knife into his chest. Sherry drove the katana forward into his back at the same time. The tip of it burst out of Alesio's chest in a red eruption.

He shouted, jerked the knife out of Leon and shoved him away. Leon rolled across the floor and was still. Alesio grabbed the blade of the sword and jerked it forward. He pulled it through him while he gasped with pain.

Sherry let go of it in shock and he turned, grabbed her jacket and jerked her off her feet. She screamed as he impaled her on the sword that stuck like a stinger out of his chest. It went through her chest and straight out her back, popping muscle and bone and throwing blood. The floor was soaked with it. It was red, red, red everywhere you looked.

Alesio grinned at her. He grinned and jerked her back off the sword. The pain was awful. It was immediate. She screamed and bled in red rivers of pain. He shoved her back on the sword, pulled her off, and shoved her back on.

She couldn't count the number of times he did it. Ten, twelve? She didn't know. Finally, she'd lost so much blood she just slumped in his arms. He lifted a brow at her face.

"You don't die? Why?"

And then his eyes lit up. "OH! You are Albert's GIRL! You are his specimen! You HEAL!" He sounded so delighted. He skimmed his hand over her chest to see all the wounds. "You are his girl? No? Let's see!"

He drove the combat knife into her chest and she screamed again, soundlessly.

Alesio pulled it out and watched the wound knit and close.

"YES! BELISSIMA! I will KEEP YOU! I will take you to him. He will be so happy. So so so so happy."

Alesio drove her against him again, watching her body jerk and flop, watching her bleed. "Oh, you are so perfect! Such a tiny fiery treat." He lifted her up and licked her chest like a dog. He rolled his face in her blood. He shivered. "Oh, it is so good. I will make you mine. You will be good if I keep your lover yes? He is pretty. I will torture him and make him sing for you. You will like that?"

Sherry was so pale in his arms. She dangled, blinking. And she coughed, bubbling blood. "…if you touch him…I will destroy you."

"…oh you fiery treat. You are so perfect. I will be gentle. I will only bleed him while I fuck him. He will like it. I promise. For you, I will be gentle. Like a baby." He kissed her bloody mouth.

And then he gasped, gasped, and the spitting sword was ripped from his body.

He dropped Sherry to the ground and turned.

Leon lifted it…and his form was perfect with it.

Alesio laughed. "You will fight for her? You know I will kill you yes? And she will cry."

"I'll take my chances. You're a one sick fuck, you know that?" They circled each other. Sherry was crawling across the floor, bleeding.

Alesio sighed. "So few understand the purpose of real art. I am not sick. I am gifted .But, often, the gifted are seen as insane. Come here and let me kiss you. I will let you taste her blood. You will love it. I will put my mouth to your body and bleed you and lick you and love you."

Leon shuddered in disgust. "Does that ever actually get someone to drop their pants?"

"Come here and I will show you."

"You first, big guy."

There was no blood on his coat. Apparently, the knife had hit his vest and stopped there. His poor face was swollen and bleeding but he'd live. Sherry, currently lying face down on the stairs, wasn't looking so good. He felt the roll of fear in his veins.

"Come on, fatty. I don't have all day."

"Fatty!? I am MUSCLE."

"Prove it. From here? Looks like blubber. Like a whale. Is Alesio Italian for Orca?"

Sherry actually laughed weakly from the stairs. It was like music in his ears. Maybe she wasn't so far gone after all.

"Pretty fool. I will fuck you bloody while she watches and cries. I tire of your bad jokes."

Leon tried to look offended. "The jokes are good. Don't be mean about the jokes because you're fat and ugly. It's not their fault."

Alesio rushed him. Admittedly, the big guy was fucking fast. Like a blur. Leon swung the sword perfectly, smoothly, and felt it slice clean through that suit and into the body beyond it. He ducked the swing of one massive arm and got the other in the face for it. Alesio punched him clean in his face and jerked the sword from him.

His poor face.

He staggered back, feeling his ears ring, and spit blood on the ground. A quick hand across his bleeding mouth told him all his teeth were still in there…hopefully. Alesio swung the sword and only sheer luck saved his life.

Leon tripped on his own shoelace and went onto his butt, skidding across the ground in the blood. The sword took his hat and sent it flying in two pieces. His hair spilled around his ears and into one eye and his back hit the wall. It thrummed and he gritted his teeth around the pain of it.

Alesio made a delighted sound. "PRETTY! Like a girl! Like a Princess. Are you a princess? Your shiny hair, your pretty face…your blood is pretty."

There was the sound of gunfire now. Three good shots and her pistol clicked empty.

Leon knew what was coming. He pushed to his feet but he wouldn't get there in time.

Alesio turned to Sherry and he just…he just backhanded her. She wasn't even up from the stairs completely. He knocked her so hard she went over the railing and onto the floor beneath it. She lay there, breathing, but still.

"She is brave for you. I can't blame her. You are gorgeous." Alesio put the tip of the sword to Sherry's face on the floor. "But you are also done fighting. Stop. Or we will see if she can survive the brain."

Leon was three feet from him. He stopped, vibrating.

"Good man. Not a complete American idiot. Throw your last weapons away. Adesso!"

Leon shifted his hands to his sidearm on his thigh and tossed it. He lifted his hands to show them empty. "Alright. You win. What do you want?"

Alesio sighed dramatically. "You are still armed. Take off the coat."

Leon undid the buttons on his coat and spread it open. "Just vest. No weapons. Let her go and come frisk me for them."

"Oh…you tempting little thing. You want me to touch you?"

Ugh.

Leon glanced down at Sherry as she shifted on the floor. And the blade of the sword so, so close to her temple. He said, "Yep. Yup. Come on over and pat me down."

Alesio narrowed his eyes. "You will fight me."

"I won't. Scout's honor. Just leave her alone."

Sighing, Alesio picked Sherry up by her jacket and threw her against the wall…and spitted her there on the sword. He drove it through her chest and pinned her there to dangle. She shouted. Leon shouted.

Alesio rushed him.

Leon backed up and flipped. Those hands passed inches from him as he skidded and landed. They circled each other again. Alesio said, "Be still! Or I will kill her. Stop!"

"I think you're gonna kill her anyway, Al. So I don't think it's a good idea to just give up."

Alesio stopped pacing and looked down. Sherry's pistol was by his foot. He tilted his head like a dog. Leon stopped as well…his pistol was three feet away.

Alesio grinned. "This goes badly for you, yes? Want to try for it?"

"I'm pretty quick."

"I heard that about American men. They are very quick. Don't last long at all."

Leon blinked. And then he laughed. "Well…shit. You calling me a two pump chump?"

"What is the saying? If the hat fits, one must wear it?"

Leon glanced at his gun again. Alesio tilted his head back the other way. "Try for it. We will see how long you last."

Sherry was putting her hands around the hilt of the katana. He needed Alesio's attention all on him. He needed her to get down and free. So, instead of diving for the gun, Leon lifted his hands and pushed his jacket off his arms.

It pooled on the floor.

Alesio giggled.

He just..giggled. Like a teenage girl.

"Oh! A strip show! Yes yes. More!"

Geezus. It was like a horny kid at a strip club. Alesio was about to start throwing dollar bills at him. Amused by the image, Leon unhooked the latches on his vest and let it fall off his back and to the floor with a clunk of armor plating.

Alesio squealed. The shirt beneath the vest was skin tight and showed, well, everything. It showed everything. Leon was also sweaty so it stuck to him like glue.

Alesio ducked down and grabbed the pistol by his foot. And trained it on Leon. "What a show! Shall we continue? The shirt next please."

Lord. He was going to be naked facing off with a psychotic pervert. It was a red letter day even for him. Leon inched closer to his gun on the floor.

Sherry almost had the sword free. But she was going to make noise when it was loose. He had to keep that attention on him. So maybe that meant a little stripper action.

Alesio was starting to get annoyed. Leon's hands went up and unhooked his holster. He let it dangle and grabbed the hem of his shirt. Alesio cocked the hammer of the gun. Utterly unnecessary but still made a good point.

Alesio said, almost conversationally, "Clearly you are a molto bello. Why do you fight? You should bring pleasure with your body. Instead you attempt to destroy it? Why? You are not meant to fight but for amore. I will keep you. I will give you both."

Ugh.

Sherry made a little sound. Alesio started to turn. Leon pulled off his shirt with a great flourish. And it was nice and cold so his body sprang with goosebumps. Alesio made a little sound like an eager cat.

"Come here. Come over and be nice to me. Maybe I will let you go."

Leon laughed now. He just laughed. Because the whole thing? It was ridiculous. "You're a bad liar, Al. I'm pretty sure you'll try to cornhole me if I come over there."

"Cornhole." Alesio was laughing now. "Americans and their slang. You are a racehorse. You need to be ridden. I will show you. Come here or I will shoot you."

So, he was shirtless with his shoulder holster dangling in a mansion in the Black Forest being oogled like eye candy by a dirty pervert with regenerative abilities. This was his Tuesday. This is what being Leon Kennedy got you. It was a shit road.

But Piers and Walsh knew where they were because he'd also left his communicator on during the whole exchange. HOPEFULLY they were coming. HOPEFULLY Alesio would NOT be coming…anytime soon. And, preferably, nowhere NEAR his cornhole.

But the wall was clear now. Bloody, but clear. Sherry was free.

So, Leon, very casually, started walking toward the other man.

Alesio said, again so casually, "You are all muscle. Let me touch you. Come here."

Eek.

Leon moved a little closer.

Alesio lifted a brow. "You are trying my patience. Get over here."

Yikes.

He moved a little closer and Alesio grabbed the strap of his shoulder holster and dragged him the rest of the way. He put one hand around Leon's throat and stroked his Adam's apple with his thumb. And then? Well, he pulled him up like he'd kiss him.

There was a very loud boom. A series of them. And Alesio didn't kiss him. But he did topple forward onto him. They went to the floor with the giant, muscled, perverted dude landing on top of a half naked Leon Kennedy and pinning him beneath that SUBSTANTIAL weight. And then he bled all over him because Sherry had filled him full of bullets. His face bled, his body bled, and he was very still.

Leon grunted beneath him.

Sherry yelled, "Are you ok?"

He went to answer and Alesio said, next to his ear, "She is so tasty. I will enjoy opening her up and touching her heart. Will she heal it?"

"You'll never fucking know."

"So brave…and stupid." Alesio leaned up and kissed him. Leon turned his head and the kiss slid over his cheek.

Sherry shouted and went for the katana where it lay on the floor in her blood.

Alesio licked his face like a dog. "I love feeling my blood pump all over you. Will you cry when she dies? Will you cry from those beautiful ocean eyes of yours while I kill you?"

Leon turned his head back, so slowly, and they were now mouth to mouth.

He said, softly, "You…won't…ever….know."

Alesio licked his mouth and whispered back, "You are caught. You are done. Relent and I will worship you. Fight and I will destroy you."

Leon smiled, wolfish and sharp. "I'll give you a fucking you'll never forget."

He wrapped his arm around that huge muscular body and pinned them together. Alesio looked excited and thrust his bleeding body against him. Leon used the other hand to drive the combat knife in it into that excited body.

He pinned the other man on top of him and just started stabbing. Alesio jerked, jerked, and gasped. Leon drove the blade into his chest and belly like a wild thing. It was short, fast, furious jabs that ripped and tore and brutalized. It was the last fucking that pervert was ever going to get.

Alesio reared up and Leon stayed pinned to him as he went. He kept on driving the knife into him. Alesio grabbed his throat and jerked. The knife ripped up through his sternum and shoulder as he tore Leon away from his body and threw him.

It wasn't an easy throw. It was a hard one. It was bad.

He threw him so hard that Leon, literally, flew through the archway and into the next room. He hit the long table there and slid across it, went off the other side, and rolled across the floor to smash into the fireplace.

Alesio started to rise, "I'm going to enjoy breaking you!"

"You won't ever touch him again!" Sherry's voice surprised him. He'd forgotten about her while playing his game with Leon. Which, was his fatal, mistake.

Sherry swung the sword. It whistled and struck. It sliced clean, fast, and deadly.

Blood dripped off the blade. Plop. Plop.

Plop.

A smooth line started on Alesio's pale neck. A thin, beautiful little line.

And then his head slid to one side and landed, wet and wide eyed, onto the floor beside his body. His neck pumped blood like a fountain, spilling it everywhere in a red, sticky mess. Sherry drove the katana into that frozen face for good measure and turned.

She ran. She ran into the dining room with the katana in her hands. Her heart was hammering.

He wasn't moving. He was in the fireplace, covering in ashes and blood. And he wasn't moving.