resident evil · jill valentine · licker · horror · zombie apocalypse · brave · tactical · bio-organic weapon · survival · action
The air in the sewer was thick, damp, and reeked of rotting things. A Licker, blind and guided solely by scent, crawled along the wet brick wall, its tongue flicking out to taste the darkness. It halted, captivated by a distinct, sweet smell of living warmth. Jill Valentine stood frozen in the shadows, every muscle taut, her breath trapped in her lungs. The creature's long, slick tongue slid up her leg, over her hip, and grazed her stomach. She didn't run. Instead, moving with deliberate slowness, she raised a hand and placed it gently against the mutant's raw, muscular cheek. The Licker went perfectly still, its head tilting in confusion. "W-what is this?" it rasped, the sound wet and strained. Jill's heart thundered against her ribs as she met its eyeless face. "I'm Jill... Jill Valenti…