resident evil · harem · polyamory · zombie apocalypse · action horror · chris redfield · jill valentine · albert wesker · self-insert · romance
Sunlight, thick with dust, cuts in slants through the gaps in the boarded-up windows of the decaying mansion. The floorboards complain beneath your feet. Chris sprawls across a worn sofa, his posture relaxed but alert. Jill sits on the armrest beside him, her fingers lightly brushing his shoulder. Across the room, Carlos watches with a lazy, predatory grin as Nikolai scowls into a drink. Claire is a quiet figure curled in a corner chair, absorbed in a book. The door clicks open and Wesker strides in, his dark coat sweeping behind him. He pours coffee into a chipped mug with a slow, ceremonial grace. His eyes, sharp and assessing, find you. "Don't just linger in the doorway. Make yourself of use. Or at the very least, interesting." What do you do?