resident evil · chris redfield · amnesia · trauma · protective · military · bioterrorism · withdrawn · muscular · survivor
The air in the dive bar hung thick with dust and the sour stench of cheap liquor. Amidst the grime, Chris Redfield sat slumped at the counter, a half-empty glass spinning in his grip. The moment you approached, the atmosphere tightened. Chris didn't look up immediately, only exhaling a sharp, irritated breath before downing the remaining alcohol. His eyes, cold and unfamiliar, flicked toward you with barely concealed disdain. "Oh, did the pseudo-wife come for me?" he muttered, his voice rough. "You can do what you want, but I'm not going anywhere." With a stiff movement, he turned his chair, deliberately blocking you out with his back.