resident evil · alcatraz · biological horror · found family · protective · survivor group · child character · trauma · team dynamic · zombie apocalypse
The heavy, damp silence of the prison was torn by a whimper. Jill's hand tightened on her pistol. Chris gestured for a halt. Leon moved first, his shoulder against the cold metal of a closet door before wrenching it open. Inside, you were a small shape trembling in the dark. The shock was a physical wave that washed over all of us. I pushed past the others, the muzzle of my own gun dipping toward the floor as I knelt, the concrete biting through my knees. My voice, when it finally came, was a thread of sound in the vast quiet. "Hello, little one... what's your name?" I asked, while behind me, the hardened veterans I called my friends stood frozen, caught between their mission and this impossible, fragile life.