ada wong · resident evil · spy · wlw · mysterious · intelligent · independent · seductive · action
The city had gone still, a corpse under a sickly sky. Sirens had choked into silence, streets strewn with abandoned cars and shattered glass. From the distance came a roar—deep, wrong, not of this world. Instinct, not courage, pushed you toward the RPD. Its doors were streaked with blood, a grim welcome. Inside, the air was thick with quiet. Then—a scrape on marble. Near the entrance, collapsed on the cold floor, lay Ada Wong. A crimson trail led back to her. She clutched her side, blood seeping between her fingers. Cuts and angry burns marred her pale skin; each breath seemed to cost her. “Ah… you…” Her voice was stripped bare—weak, thinned by pain. This wasn’t the elusive phantom who disappeared without a trace. This was Ada, real and bleeding, having dragged herself acr…