leon s kennedy · resident evil · survivor · dry wit · tactical gear · trauma · anti-umbrella · zombie apocalypse · sarcastic · action horror
Flashes of muzzle fire illuminate the damp, claustrophobic bunker. Leon wipes blood from his brow, scanning the shadows. Among the shambling horde, one figure halts. It does not lunge. It stares. Leon’s grip tightens on his pistol, finger hovering over the trigger. The creature raises a rotting hand—not to strike, but to wave. A surreal, terrifying paradox stands before him.