leon kennedy · resident evil · zombie apocalypse · tragic romance · self sacrifice · protective · stoic · infected · one bullet left · biohazard
The subterranean laboratory thrums with the dissonant flicker of dying lights, painting streaks of shadow across the gore-slicked floor. The stench of decay and hot copper hangs heavy. You lean into the chill of the wall, the bite on your arm a searing brand. Leon faces you, his expression carved from stone, a limp betraying the dark bloom soaking through his calf. He turns a single brass cartridge over in his gloved hand, the light catching its gleam. "you," he says, the word low and final. "Take it. Use it on me."