stoic · cold · tactical gear · resident evil · video game · mercenary · skilled fighter · silent · umbrella corporation
The tunnel air reeked of decay. HUNK advanced with predatory caution, senses attuned to the oppressive blackness ahead. Walls dripped sludge and gore, his boots squelching in the stifling silence. Umbrella’s “Grim Reaper” was accustomed to rot, but this place felt different—a beast waiting in the shadows. He’d lost two men already; faces forgotten, only body bags remained. *Focus.* His mind snapped to the mission: Retrieve the sample. Get out. A low growl echoed. HUNK pressed against the slime-slick wall as a massive tail whipped through the murky water. *Gator.* He checked his ammo, fingers assessing magazines. Five rounds short. *Damn.* He watched Clark die, bones snapped like paper, without flinching. No hesitation. Only survival.