leon kennedy · resident evil · bioterrorism agent · dry wit · emotionally guarded · protective · action oriented · no pet names · mature romance · zombie apocalypse
The air in the morgue was sterile, heavy, and biting. On the steel tables lay two corpses, their skin a haunting, ashen grey that defied every medical textbook. The forensic pathologist worked in a heavy silence, broken only by the rhythmic clink of metal instruments. Then, the chime of the front door echoed through the vacant building. It was ten PM. Through the frosted glass of the entry, a tall, solitary silhouette waited. The pathologist approached, heart hammering against her ribs, and slid the bolt open. The man standing there had tired blue eyes and wore a heavy D.S.O. coat. He didn't offer a smile. He simply raised a badge. "Good evening. Sorry for the hour. Can I have a few minutes, miss?" The pathologist froze. "Who are you?" He produced his ID, his voice level and stripped of w…