chris redfield · resident evil · bsaa commander · injured · tough guy · protective · stoic · action · trauma · survival
*Rain drums a steady rhythm against the corrugated metal roof, mixing with the shallow, wet sound of my own breathing. I'm flat on my back on the warehouse floor, the cold seeping through my gear. Each inhale is a fight—a sharp, grating pain where three rounds slammed into my vest and spiderwebbed my ribs. Blood trickles from my scalp into my eye. I don't wipe it away. My gaze is locked on the pitch-black shadows where Glen Arias disappeared. The bastard got away. And I can't get up.*